THE  WORST  BOY  IN  TOWN 


BY 


The  Author  of  "  HELEN'S  BABIES 


NEW   YORK 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS, 

l82    FIFTH    AVENUE 
I880 


-f-\  ,; 

P 


COPYRIGHT  nv 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS, 

1880. 


TO     VERY     BAD     BOYS, 


AND      TO      THE       FINE      OLD      FELLOWS 


WHO       ONCE       WERE       CALLED       VERY       BAD       BOYS, 


THIS     BOOK     IS     SYMPATHETICALLY     DEDICATED 


BY     THE     AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PARK 

I — A  NAUTICAL  EXPEDITION         ...  i 

II — A  CORNER  IN  WHISKEY     ....  15 

III — INJURY  AND  RESTITUTION        .            .            .  .27 

IV — SHARP  AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS             .            .  40 

V — EXPERIMENTS  IN  GRAVITATION            .            .  .53 

VI — THOUGHTS  OF  REFORM      ....  63 

VII — IN  TROUBLE  AGAIN      .            .            .            .  -75 

VIII — FUGITIVES  FROM  JUSTICE   .  90 
IX — THE  STOOL  OF  REPENTANCE    ....     104 

X — YOUNG  AMERICA  IN  POLITICS        .            .            .  118 
XI — A  QUIET  LITTLE  GAME            ....     132 

XII — SWEET  SOLACE        .            .            .            .            .  .     146 

XIII— THE  BOY  WHO  WAS  NOT  AFRAID     .            .  .160 

XIV — PAYING  FOR  A  SPREE          .            .            .            .  173 

XV — RUNNING  AWAY            .            .            .            .  .187 

XVI — LOSING  A  REPUTATION       ....  199 


CHAPTER  I. 

A    NAUTICAL    EXPEDITION. 

«"\   YOU'RE  the  worst  boy  in  town  !  " 

The  speaker  was  Farmer  Parkins,  and 
the  person  addressed  was  Jack  Wittingham,  only 
son  of  the  most  successful  physician  in  Doveton. 
Farmer  Parkins  had  driven  to  town  quite  early  in 
the  morning  to  make  some  necessary  purchases,  and 
he  had  been  followed  by  his  faithful  yellow  dog,  Sam, 
who  had  been  improving  the  opportunity  to  make 
some  personal  calls  and  tours  of  observation.  One 
of  these  last  named  recreations  carried  him  near  the 
back  door  of  a  butcher  shop  to  which  Jack  had  gone 
to  deliver  an  order  for  his  mother.  Adjacent  to 
the  butcher's  place  of  business  was  the  shop  of  the 
village  tinman,  and  behind  this  were  strewn  sundry 
kitchen  utensils  which  had  proved  to  be  too  badly 
damaged  to  be  mended.  Jack  had  noticed  the  dog 
when  that  animal  first  put  in  his  appearance  in 
search  of  a  scrap  of  meat  or  bone,  and  had  there- 


2  THE    WORST    BOY    IN     TOWN. 

after  observed  his  motions  with  that  peculiar  in 
terest  which  dogs  seem  always  to  inspire  in  boys. 
Then  he  happened  to  see  a  very  dilapidated  tea 
kettle  behind  the  tin-shop,  and  when  dogs  and  tea 
kettles  become  closely  associated  in  the  mind  of  a 
boy,  even  if  the  boy  himself  be  of  excellent  birth 
and  breeding,  and  quite  tender-hearted  beside,  the 
juvenile  traditions  of  many  generations  have  gener 
ally  the  effect  of  causing  the  dog  and  the  kettle  to 
enter  into  an  entangling  alliance  which  the  animal 
regards  with  accumulative  aversion,  and  about 
which  the  tea-kettle,  whose  expressions  are  ordi 
narily  so  cheery,  indulges  in  much  unrythmical  noise. 
Into  such  a  combination  were  Farmer  Parkins'  yel 
low  dog  Sam  and  an  old  kettle  forced  very  soon 
after  Jack  first  beheld  them  both,  and  as  yellow 
Sam  hurried  down  street  in  an  honest  attempt  to 
rid  himself  of  his  superfluous  tin-ware,  and  as  Jack 
followed  him  to  note  the  results,  with  a  view  to  the 
more  accurate  affixing  of  tin  kettles  to  the  tails  of 
the  dogs  of  the  future,  yellow  Sam  dropped  ex 
hausted  in  front  of  his  master's  horses,  and  the  dog's 
master  came  out  of  a  store  near  by,  just  as  Jack, 
with  a  fragment  of  barrel-hoop,  was  trying  to  stimu 
late  the  animal  to  renewed  exertion.  It  was  then 
that  the  farmer  remarked,  with  admirable  vigor, 


A    NAUTICAL    EXPEDITION.  3 

"  You're  the  worst  boy  in  town  !  " 

Jack  had  heard  this  very  expression  so  many 
times  before  that  he  was  half  inclined  to  believe  it 
true,  yet  how  it  could  be  a  fact  was  a  something 
that  bothered  him  greatly.  He  laughed  when 
Farmer  Parkins  said  it,  and  he  replied  also,  by  sev 
eral  facial  contortions,  which  were  as  irritating  as 
they  were  hideous ;  he  stuck  his  hands  into  his 
pockets,  and  bravely  tried  an  ingratiating  smile  or 
two  upon  such  passers  by  as  had  overheard  the 
farmer's  remark,  but  as  soon  as  he  had  reached  an 
alley  down  which  to  disappear,  Jack  suddenly  be 
came  a  very  chop-fallen,  unhappy  looking  boy,  and 
he  murmured  to  himself, 

"  That's  what  everyone  says.  I  don't  see  why. 
I  don't  swear,  like  Jimmy  Myers,  nor  steal,  like 
Frank  Balder,  I  don't  tell  lies — except  when  I  have 
to,  and  I  go  to  Sunday-school  every  Sunday,  while 
there  are  lots  of  boys  in  town  who  spend  the  whole 
of  that  day  in  fishing.  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt  old 
Parkin's  yellow  dog ;  I  only  wanted  to  see  -what 
he'd  do.  And  just  didn't  he  travel  ? — oh,  oh  !  But 
I  don't  see  why  I'm  the  worst  boy  in  town.  I  de 
clare.  If  it  isn't  just  the  morning  to  go  fishing — ' 
warm,  cloudy,  worms  easy  to  get.  I  wish  't  was 


4  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

Saturday,  so  there  wouldn't  be  any  school,  and  I 
wish  school  teachers  knew  what  fun  it  is  to  go  fish 
ing  ;  then  they'd  be  easier  on  a  fellow  who  played 
hookey,  and  they'd  ask  him  where  he  caught  them, 
and  how  many,  and  how  big  they  were,  instead  of 
picking  up  their  everlasting  switches  and  making 
themselves  disagreeable.  Perch  would  bite  splen 
didly  to-day,  and  there  are  people  in  this  town  who'd 
be  glad  to  have  a  good  mess  of  perch.  I  declare ! 
I've  just  the  idea  ;  school  or  no  school,  whipping 
or  no  whipping,  it  ought  to  be  done.  I'll  go  right 
away  and  see  if  Matt  can't  go  with  me." 

Jack  moved  rapidly  through  streets  which  crossed 
the  main  thoroughfare  of  the  town  ;  then  he  ap 
proached  a  wood-pile  where  a  boy  of  about  his  own 
age  was  at  work;  before  this  boy's  eyes  Jack 
dangled  two  new  fish-lines  and  some  hooks,  and  ex 
claimed — 

"  Come  along,  Matt !  " 

"  I  can't,"  said  Matt,  gazing  hungrily  at  the  new 
fishing  tackle,  "  the  governor  wouldn't  like  it  at 
all." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  governor,"  said  Jack,  "  I'll 
explain  things  to  him  when  we  get  back." 

Matt  seemed  to  be  in  some  doubt  as  to  whether 


A    NAUTICAL    EXPEDITION.  5 

the  influence  of  his  tempter  with  the  governor 
amounted  to  much,  for  the  functionary  alluded  to 
was  master  Matt  Bolton's  own  father,  a  gentleman 
who  held  quite  firmly  to  the  general  opinion  about 
Jack.  Besides,  Matt  was  vigorously  attacking  the 
family  woodpile,  his  honest  heart  alive  with  a  sense 
of  the  need  there  was  for  him  to  do  all  in  his  power 
to  relieve  his  overworked  father,  and  alive,  too, 
with  the  conviction  that  he  would  have  to  work  in 
dustriously  if  he  would  chop  and  split  a  day's  sup 
ply  before  school-time.  Besides,  a  fishing  excursion 
implied  truancy,  which,  in  turn,  implied  the  cer 
tainty  of  a  whipping  in  school  and  the  probability 
of  punishment  at  home. 

"  Father  would  be  very  angry,"  said  Matt,  as  he 
sighingly  withdrew  his  eyes  from  the  new  fishing 
tackle,  "  and  he  has  already  enough  to  bother  him, 
without  having  things  made  worse  by  me." 

"  But  Matt,  he  won't  feel  bad  when  he  knows 
what  you  did  with  the  fish.  We'll  give  them  to 
widow  Batty.  (This  resolution  of  Jack's  was  newer 
even  than  his  tackle,  for  he  had  formed  it  while 
he  talked).  "  She's  been  sick,  you  know,  and  I 
heard  your  father  say  the  other  day  that  she  must 
have  a  hard  enough  time,  at  best,  to  feed  that  large 
family  of  her's." 


O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"But  suppose  \ve  don't  catch  any?"  suggested 
Matt. 

"  Then  you  can  tell  him  what  we  meant  to  have 
done  if  we  had  caught  some.  Besides,  we  can't  help 
catching  a  lot  at  such  a  splendid  fish-hole  as  the 
mill  dam.  I  think  it's  awful  that  a  whole  family 
should  go  hungry  just  because  it  hasn't  got  any 
father.  Didn't  your  governor  ever  read  you  out  of 
the  Bible  of  visiting  the  fatherless  and  widows  in 
their  affliction  ? — mine  has." 

Boys  are  no  more  likely  than  adults  to  resist  Satan 
when  he  appears  as  an  angel  of  light,  so  Matt 
speedily  agreed  to  go  as  soon  as  he  had  prepared  a 
day's  supply  of  firewood. 

"Got  another  axe,  and  I'll  help  you,"  said  Jack, 
and  within  five  minutes  those  two  boys  were 
making  chips  fly  at  a  rate  which  would  have  been 
the  wonder  of  a  hired  wood-chopper,  while  Matt's 
mother,  who  happened  to  glance  through  a  window 
wondered  why  Jack's  father  could  accuse  that  boy 
of  laziness.  Then  both  boys  carried  the  wood  to 
the  kitchen  door,  unearthed  some  worms  between 
sundry  logs  at  the  wood-pile,  and  disappeared  as 
stealthily  as  if  in  their  benevolent  project  they 
were  animated  by  the  scriptural  injunction,  to  not 


A    NAUTICAL    EXPEDITION.  / 

let  the-  left  hand  know  what  the  right  hand  was 
doing. 

Reaching  the  brow  of  a  little  hill  upon  which  the 
village  was  situated,  Jack  exclaimed — 

"  I  vow,  if  the  river  has'nt  overflowed  its  banks." 

"  Umph,"  replied  Matt,  "  I  knew  that  a  week 
ago." 

"  Well,"  said  Jack,"  "  so  did  I,  but  I  forgot  it. 
We  can  get  to  the  dam  easily  enough,  though  ;  it's 
only  half  a  mile  across  the  lowlands  to  the  river, 
and  there  are  fences  all  the  way.  Riding  rail  fen 
ces  is  bully  fun.  Wait  till  I  get  my  rod ;  I've  got 
two  and  I'll  lend  you  one." 

Jack  extracted  two  bamboo  rods  from  the  black 
berry  thicket  where  he  habitually  kept  them,  lest 
they  should  occasion  unpleasant  questions,  as  they 
certainly  would  have  done  had  his  frequent  expedi 
tions  with  them  begun  at  the  house  of  his  excellent 
father.  Then  both  boys  mounted  the  fence,  which 
was  of  rails,  and  their  trip  to  the  dam  was  fairly 
begun. 

Now  to  travel  by  fence-rail  is  a  delightful  method 
of  passing  time,  as  all  liberally  educated  boys  know, 
if  one  is  bound  for  no  where  in  particular,  but 
when  one  is  two,  and  both  are  boys,  and  are  in 


8  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

quest  of  fish,  and  the  middle  of  the  day  is  approach 
ing,  in  which  fish  do  not  bite,  half  a  mile  of  rail 
fencing  is  a  trip  which  consumes  patience  with 
great  rapidity.  Had  the  adventurers  been  other 
than  boys,  they  would  have  turned  back  at  once, 
but  when  a  boy  gets  a  project  clearly  into  his  head 
he  never  gives  any  one  an  excuse  to  say  that  the 
mule  is  the  most  obstinate  of  all  living  animals. 
Jack  soon  grew  impatient  of  his  slow  progress,  and 
conceived  a  brilliant  idea.  Raising  himself  to  his 
feet  on  a  rail  of  reasonable  flatness  (for  a  fence  rail) 
he  steadied  himself  with  his  rod,  and  accomplished 
with  safety  and  celerity  the  trip  to  the  angle  where 
the  rail  terminated. 

"  Hurrah,  Matt !  "  he  shouted,  "  look  here  !  "  and 
he  walked  along  another  rail. 

Matt  saw  and  was  glad,  and  following  Jack's  ex 
ample,  he  made  some  excellent  time  himself. 

"We'd  never  have  learned  that  trick  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  overflow.  How  glad  I  am  that  I  came, 
and — Ow  !  "  Jack's  abrupt  termination  was  due  to 
his  own  course  having  temporarily  terminated,  for 
the  third  rail  upon  which  he  ventured,  not  having 
been  designed  for  the  particular  object  which  Jack 
had  in  view,  had  been  split  triangularly,  and  one  of 


A    NAUTICAL    EXPEDITION.  9 

Jack's  shoes  had  slipped  to  one  side,  the  other  slip 
ping  in  an  opposite  direction,  and  the  young  man 
came  down  astride  the  unyielding  oak  with  a  thud 
whose  sound  was  something  inaudible  when  con 
sidered  in  the  light  of  the  anguish  which  it  caused. 
No  new  word  presented  itself  for  use  just  then  ; 
Jack  continued  to  remark  "  Ow,"  with  a  variety  of 
long  drawn  inflections,  while  Matt  precipitately 
lowered  himself  to  a  position  of  safety,  and  mani 
fested  no  inclination  to  go  farther.  After  some  mo 
ments  devoted  strictly  to  facial  contortion,  Jack 
succeeded  in  changing  his  position  so  that  both 
legs  hung  upon  the  same  side  of  the  fence,  then  he 
examined  the  rail  closely,  as  if  to  see  if  the  tip 
of  his  spine  had  not  driven  a  hole  through  it,  and 
remarked, 

"We'd  better  do  this  in  our  stockinged  feet." 
Matt  thought  so  too,  so  both  both  boys  removed 
their  shoes,  tying  them  together  with  the  strings 
upon  which  the  fish  were  to  be  strung,  and  slinging 
them  across  their  shoulders.  Their  progress  there 
after  was  considerably  more  rapid,  but  a  sudden 
shriek  and  a  splash  of  voluminous  sound  and  dis 
placement  announced  that  Matt  had  fallen  entirely 
from  his  rail,  and  when  Jack  came  to  view  the 


IO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

scene,  Matt  was  swelling  the  flood  with  his  own 
tears. 

"  I  declare,"  exclaimed  Jack,  "  that's  too  bad,  old 
fellow  !  And  you  had  the  worms  in  your  pocket,  too 
— I  hope  the  water  hasn't  got  into  the  box  and 
drowned  them  so  they  can't  wiggle  when  they're  on 
the  hooks.  Say,  its  warm  ;  your  clothes  will  dry 
on  you,  before  we  reach  the  dam.  Oh,  I'll  tell  you 
what, — we'll  take  them  off  and  wring  them  out,  and 
go  swimming  at  the  same  time." 

At  the  prospect  of  an  unlocked  for  sport,  Matt 
dried  his  tears,  and  a  broad  flat  rail  having  been 
found  the  boys  disrobed  and  took  whatever  comfort 
could  be  found  in  water  eighteen  inches  deep  with  a 
field  of  corn  stubble  at  the  bottom  of  it.  Matt's 
clothes  seemed  rather  clammy  as  he  again  resumed 
his  normal  position  inside  them,  but  Jack  described 
so  delightfully  the  assortment  of  fish  which  he 
wished  to  catch,  that  damp  clothing  became  a  mere 
thing  of  the  forgotten  past.  Started  again,  Jack 
moved  rapidly  for  some  moments,  but  suddenly 
stopped  and  shouted, 

"Hurry  up,  Matt;  here's  the  splendidest  thing 
that  ever  was !  " 

Matt  obeyed  orders,  and  while  yet  twenty  rail 
lengths  behind  he  heard  Jack  shout, 

\ 


A    NAUTICAL    EXPEDITION.  II 

"  Here's  a  bridge  that  floated  away  from  one  of 
the  little  brooks  ;  we'll  just  make  a  raft  of  it  and 
reach  the  dam  in  less  than  no  time." 

Matt  eyed  the  bridge  with  manifest  favor ;  it  was 
simply  two  logs, — mud  sills — connected  by  three 
cross-ties,  upon  which  the  planking  was  laid. 

"  Won't  the  current  trouble  us  when  we  reach  the 
river  road?"  he  asked. 

"  We  won't  go  that  way,"  said  Jack.  "  We'll  go 
through  the  fields  and  then  along  a  wood  road  that 
goes  through  the  timber.  It's  half  a  mile  the 
shorter  way,  besides  being  the  safer.  Come  ahead  ; 
we'll  use  our  rods  for  poles  to  push  the  raft  with." 

"  Then  we've  got  to  knock  down  fences,"  said 
Matt. 

"  Well,"  said  Jack,  who  had  a  conscience  in  hid 
ing  somewhere  about  him,  "  we'll  come  back  in  a 
few  days,  when  the  flood  has  gone  down,  and  put 
them  up  again.  And  we'll  play  the  raft  is  a  ram — 
a  regular  Merrimac,  you  know, — and  the  fences  are 
an  enemy's  fleet,  or  a  chain  stretched  across  the 
river.  Let's  back  out  and  get  a  good  start." 

The  bridge,  which  did  not  draw  a  foot  of  water, 
was  backed  across  the  road,  one  boy  stood  at  each 
side,  and  at  a  signal  from  Jack  it  was  driven  against 


12  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

the  fence,  through  which  it  crashed  most  gloriously, 
sprinkling  a  dozen  fence-rails  about  the  surface  of 
the  water. 

"Hooray!"  shouted  Jack,  "now  for  the  next 
one  !  The  Union  forever  !  "  and  then  Jack,  while 
en  route  for  the  next  fence,  finding  himself  unequal 
to  the  task  of  extemporizing  a  stirring  address  to 
his  command,  began  to  quote  from  "  Rolla's  Ad 
dress  to  the  Peruvians,"  which  was  considered  the 
gem  of  that  much  used  book,  "  The  Comprehensive 
School  Speaker" — "My  brave  associates,  partners 
of  my  toils,  my  feelings  and  my  fame,  can  Rolla's 
words  add  fresh  vigor  to  the " 

Just  then  the  raft  struck  the  fence,  but  this  latter 
being  of  the  "staked  and  ridered  "*  pattern,  the 
result  was  that  the  raft  came  to  a  sudden  standstill, 
and  the  crew  were  thrown  flat  upon  it,  their  respec 
tive  heads  hanging  somewhat  astern  and  in  danger 
of  being  water-soaked. 

"  Blazes  !  "  exclaimed  Jack  wrathfully,  as  he  en 
deavored  to  staunch  a  bleeding  nose,  "  what  did  a 
man  need  to  have  a  staked  and  ridered  fence  just 
here  for  ?  Well,  we'll  have  to  push  down  a  couple 
of  stakes  and  break  our  way  through." 

*  A  rail-fence  across  the  angles  of  which  two  rails  meet  in  X  shape, 
their  lowest  ends  driven  into  the  grounds  a  little  way  and  a  rail  lying 
in  the  upper  angle  of  the  X. 


A    NAUTICAL     EXPEDITION.  13 

The  commanding  officer's  plan  was  speedily 
acted  upon,  and  the  raft  went  on  swimmingly 
until  it  seemed  to  slide  upon  some  obstruction, 
then  it  came  to  a  dead  stop. 

"  Grounded  on  an  old  corn  hill,  I  suppose,"  said 
Jack.  "  Well,  '  starn  all/  as  old  Barnstable  says  in 
the  Fourth  Reader." 

But  no  amount  of  pushing  availed  to  move  the 
raft,  and  the  sudden  breaking  of  Jack's  rod  gave 
affairs  a  new  and  discouraging  aspect. 

"  We  can't  both  fish  with  one  rod,"  said  Jack, 
after  descending  into  and  emerging  from  the  depths 
of  his  mind.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  let's  do,  we'll 
take  off  our  clothes,  make  them  into  a  bundle, 
and  carry  them  ashore  on  our  heads,  as  explorers 
sometimes  do  when  they  ford  rivers." 

"  What !  "  asked  Matt,  "  and  not  get  any  fish  for 
poor  Mrs.  Batty  and  her  children?" 

"  That  is  a  pity,"  said  Jack,  with  some  signs  of 
embarrassment,  and  the  gathering  together  of  the 
loose  and  fleeting  ends  of  previous  plans  and  reso 
lutions.  "  But,  you  see,  it  must  be  nearly  eleven 
o'clock  ;  we've  used  up  an  awful  lot  of  time,  and 
we've  got  to  get  ashore  yet,  and  be  back  home  by 
the  time  school  is  out,  else  the  folks  '11  know  we've 


14  THE    WORST  EOY    IN    TOWN. 

been  playing  hookey.  1  wonder  if  we  couldn't  get 
the  poor  old  woman  some  blackberries?  It's  only 
June  now,  though,  and  I  never  saw  a  ripe  black 
berry  before  the  first  of  July.  Perhaps  there's 
some  early  cherries  in  Milman's  orchard." 

With  this  slight  salve  for  the  consciences  whose 
wounds  had  begun  to  smart,  the  boys  stripped  once 
more,  waded  ashore  through  a  corn-field  in  which 
the  hills  of  sharp  cut  stalks  seemed  omnipresent, 
dressed  themselves,  and  sneaked  into  the  Milman 
orchard,  where  they  made  wry  faces  while  discuss 
ing  the  probable  value  to  the  widow  Battay  of  the 
few  pale  pink  cherries  they  found.  Dinner  was 
reached  and,  eaten,  somehow  with  less  appetites 
than  was  usual  after  a  morning  spent  in  school,  and 
then  the  boys,  each  by  himself,  made  hasty  search 
for  whatever  suitable  material  might  be  soonest 
found  to  insert  between  shirts  and  jackets,  to  break 
the  force  of  what,  in  the  memory  of  many  old 
fellows  who  once  were  school-boys,  was  the  inevi 
table  penalty  of  truancy. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A    CORNER   IN    WHISKEY. 

FOR  several  days  after  their  unsuccessful  fish 
ing  expedition,  Jack  and  Matt  were  ex 
tremely  obedient  and  undemonstrative.  Village 
school  teachers,  in  that  country,  were  not  un- 
frequently  the  stout-armed  sons  of  farmers,  and 
when  they  plied  the  rod,  any  memory  of  the  oc 
casion  was  not  likely  soon  to  become  dimmed.  It 
was  perhaps  for  this  reason  that  even  when  Matt 
or  Jack  amused  himself  by  whistling,  the  airs 
selected  were  sure  to  have  been  written  on  minor 
keys,  and  that  both  boys  sought  earnestly,  each 
by  himself,  for  some  method  of  setting  some 
positive  moral  success  against  their  late  failure  at 
benevolence. 

The  opportunity  did  not  linger  long.  Matt  was  sit 
ting  in  the  house  one  evening,  wondering  whether  to 
go  to  bed  at  once,  or  wrestle  again  with  an  exaspera 
ting  problem  in  cube  root,  the  answer  to  which,  as 

15 


1 6  THE    WORST  BOY   IN    TOWN. 

printed  in  the  book,  he  felt  thrice  assured  was 
wrong,  when  a  long  whistle  of  peculiar  volume  and 
inflection  informed  him  that  Jack  was  outside  and 
had  something  to  communicate.  Matt  sprang  to 
his  feet,  for  only  a  matter  of  extreme  importance 
would  have  brought  Jack  across  town  at  so  late  an 
hour.  The  worst  boy  in  town  was  found  by  Matt 
to  be  hanging  across  the  garden  gate  and  so  power 
fully  charged  with  virtuous  indignation  that  he  was 
unable  to  contain  it  all. 

"  Look  here,  Matt,"  said  he,  "  you  know  what  an 
awful  thing  whiskey  is,  don't  you?" 

"  I  should  think  I  did,"  replied  Matt,  "  Havn't  I 
been  to  every  temperance  meeting  that's  been 
held  ?  " 

"  So  you  have,"  said  Jack,  "  Well  what  do  you 
think?  There's  Hoccamine,  the  corner  storekeeper, 
gone  and  bought  seven  barrels." 

"Isn't  that  dreadful!"  exclaimed  Matt.  "If  he 
starts  a  rum-shop  here,  it'll  spoil  the  custom  of  his 
store." 

"  He  isn't  going  to  have  a  bar,"  explained  Jack, 
"he's  going  to  sell  by  the  gallon.  But  what's  the 
difference? — rum  is  rum,  and  it  does  harm,  no  mat 
ter  in  what  way  it  is  sold." 


A    CORNER    IN    WHISKEY.  \J 

"  It's  perfectly  awful,"  said  Matt. 

"All  right,"  said  Jack,  "  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  I 
propose.  It  wasn't  brought  up  to  the  store  until 
after  dark — I  suppose  they  were  ashamed — and  it 
is  on  the  sidewalk  beside  their  store,  to  be  put 
down  cellar  as  soon  as  the  clerks  come  in  the  morn 
ing."  Then  Jack  put  his  lips  down  to  Matt's  ear, 
and  whispered,  "  Let's  spill  it  for  them?" 

"  Gracious!  "  whispered  Matt,  "how  can  we?" 

"  Easily  enough,"  said  Jack.  "  We'll  bore  a  gim 
let  hole  in  each  barrel,  and  it'll  have  all  night  to 
run.  I've  got  a  gimlet.  You  slip  out  of  the  house 
about  twelve  o'clock,  and  so  will  I ;  we'll  meet  at 
the  church  steps,  and  then  unchain  the  demon  only 
to  destroy  him  forever."  (Jack's  last  clause  was 
quoted  verbatim  from  a  temperance  address  to 
which  he  had  lately  listened.) 

"  I'm  your  man,"  said  Matt. 

"  I  knew  you  would  be,"  Jack  replied  ;  I  could 
have  done  it  alone,  but  I  was  sure  you'd  enjoy 
helping,  and  I'm  not  the  sort  of  fellow  that  goes 
back  on  a  friend,  you  know.  Twelve  o'clock  sure, 
—does  your  clock  strike  the  hours  ?  " 

"Yes." 
'  So  does  ours.     Can  you  keep  awake  until  then  ? 


1 8  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

If  you  can't  I'll  give  you  half  of  my  cloves  to 
eat.  I've  saved  them  the  past  few  Sunday  nights 
when  I  havn't  been  sleepy  in  church." 

Matt  accepted  the  proffered  assistance,  and  Jack 
departed,  while  Matt  went  into  the  house  and  to 
bed  "with  the  firm  conviction  that  he  was  too  ex 
cited  to  sleep  any  for  a  week  to  come.  It  was  nine 
when  he  retired,  and  at  the  stroke  of  ten  he  had 
not  had  occasion  to  touch  the  cloves  except  to 
nibble  the  blossom  end  from  one,  just  to  have  a 
pleasant  taste  in  his  mouth.  It  was  many  hours, 
apparently  before  the  clock  struck  eleven ;  had  it 
not  been  for  the  loud  persistent  ticking  Matt  would 
have  believed  the  old  timepiece  had  stopped.  As 
it  was,  he  had  fully  made  up  his  mind  that  the 
striking  weight  had  not  been  wound,  when  sudden 
ly  the  hammer  rattled  off  eleven.  Between  eleven 
and  twelve,  Matt  ate  all  the  cloves,  pinched  himself 
nearly  black  and  blue,  pulled  his  hair,  rubbed  his 
ears,  and  did  everything  else  he  had  ever  heard  of 
as  an  antidote  to  sleepiness.  Finally  he  dressed 
himself  and  descended,  intending  to  be  at  the  front 
door  when  the  clock  should  strike.  As  he  stepped 
from  the  last  stair  his  foot  fell  upon  the  family 
cat,  who  habitually  reposed  upon  a  rug  lying  just 


A    CORNER    IN    WHISKEY.  IQ 

there,  and  the  cry  which  that  cat  uttered  was  more 
appalling  to  Matt  than  the  roar  of  a  royal  Bengal 
tiger  would  have  been.  Matt's  parents,  however, 
had  clear  consciences,  so  the  agonized  scream  did 
not  seem  to  awaken  them.  Then  Matt's  heart  beat 
so  violently  that  he  began  to  wonder  why  the 
sound  of  its  throbs  did  not  shake  the  house.  He 
tiptoed  to  the  door,  but  his  shoes  squeaked,  and 
though  he  experimented,  by  setting  down  his  feet, 
heel  first,  by  walking  on  the  outer  edge  of  his  shoes, 
and  then  upon  the  inner,  the  squeak  continued. 
Then  he  sat  upon  the  floor  and  removed  his  shoes, 
when,  to  his  great  relief,  the  clock  struck  twelve. 
Why  that  clock  did  not  rouse  him  with  its  clamor 
every  night  and  every  time  it  struck  was  a  great 
mystery  to  him  as  he  softly  opened  the  door, 
closed  it,  sped  away  in  his  stockinged  feet,  and  de 
termined  to  smuggle  a  bit  of  soap  out  of  the  house 
and  settle  with  those  stockings  before  they  went  to 
the  family  washtub. 

Reaching  the  church,  Matt  was  sure  he  saw  a 
shadow  hold  up  a  gaunt  forefinger  by  way  of  warn 
ing,  but  this  speedily  resolved  itself  into  Jack,  who 
was  elevating  the  gimlet,  and  who  approached  and 
whispered — 


2O  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  In  hoc  signo  vinces,"  as  old  Constantine  says  in 
the  "Universal  School  History." 

Both  boys  hugged  every  fence  and  wall  until  they 
reached  the  offending  barrels  ;  then  Matt's  heart 
began  pumping  again,  receiving  some  sympathy 
from  that  of  Jack.  The  last  named  youth  suddenly 
whispered, 

"  Want  to  strike  the  first  blow  ?  " 

"  I  guess  not,"  said  Matt,  flattening  himself  as 
closely  as  possible  against  the  wall  of  the  store. 
"  You  thought  of  it  first." 

Jack  knelt  before  one  of  the  barrels,  bored  a  hole 
as  low  as  possible,  and  a  small  stream  of  liquid  and 
a  strong  smell  of  whiskey  appeared  instantly  and  at 
the  same  time.  Then  another  hole  was  bored  at 
the  top,  to  admit  air,  and  the  industry  of  the  stream 
increased  suddenly,  as  Jack  learned  by  a  jet  which 
struck  his  own  trowsers  and  made  itself  felt  on  the 
skin  beneath.  Matt  operated  upon  the  second  bar 
rel,  Jack  unlocked  the  demon  in  the  third,  and  so 
the  boys  proceeded  alternately,  until  while  over  the 
sixth  barrel  Matt's  enthusiasm  interfered  with  his 
steadiness  of  hand  and  he  broke  the  gimlet. 

"  That's  too  bad,"  whispered  Jack.  "  I  guess  we'd 
better  leave,  but  old  Hoccamine  won't  find  five 


A    CORNER    IN    WHISKEY.  21 

empty  barrels  a  very  small  hint  to  stop  outraging 
the  sentiments  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  town." 

Both  boys  made  haste  to  depart,  wasting  no  time 
in  formal  adieux.  As  soon  as  they  had  reached  the 
church  and  cemetery,  in  neither  of  which  they  fear 
ed  listeners,  Jack  exclaimed  in  a  low  tone 

"  This  is  a  proud  day  for  Doveton,  Matt ;  can't 
you  make  some  excuse  to  come  up  town  in  the 
morning  to  hear  Hoccamine  swear  when  he  learns 
about  it?  " 

"  I'll  ask  mother  if  she  doesn't  need  something 
from  some  store,"  said  Matt  ;  "  good  night." 

The  .boys  went  their  separate  ways,  each  uncon 
sciously  carrying  the  smell  of  whiskey  in  the  shoe 
soles  which  had  several  times  been  wet  with  it,  as 
they  moved  about  the  sidewalk,  so  when  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Bolton  awoke  in  the  morning,  it  was  not  strange 
that  the  lady  exclaimed — 

"  Where  can  that  strong  smell  of  whiskey  come 
from  ?  I  didn't  know  there  was  a  drop  in  the 
house." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Mr.  Bolton.  The  odor  could  not 
be  attributed  to  the  servant,  for  she  lived  elsewhere, 
and  had  not  yet  come  to  her  daily  labor.  Mrs. 
Bolton  was  not  superior  to  the  ordinary  human  in 
terest  in  mystery,  so  she  continued, 


22  THE    WORST  BOY   IN    TOWN. 

"  Where  can  it  be?  Oh,  husband,  it  can't  be  that 
Matt,  our  only  darling  boy,  is  getting  into  bad 
ways  ?  " 

Mr.  Bolton  sprang  from  his  bed  and  hurried  to 
Matt's  room  ;  there  were  too  many  other  fourteen- 
year  old  boys  in  Doveton  who  had  already  trifled 
with  liquor,  and  Matt's  father  had  at  once  become 
suspicious.  But  he  returned  in  a  moment  saying, 

"  Thank  God,  it  isn't  that  ;  the  blessed  scamp's 
breath  is  as  sweet  as  it  was  when  he  was  a  baby. 
But  what  can  it  be?  " 

Mr.  Bolton  quickly  dressed  himself  and  went 
through  the  house,  but  soon  hurried  back  exclaim 
ing— 

"  Thieves  !  The  front  door  is  ajar." 
Both  householders  took  part  in  a  hasty  search, 
but  Mrs.  Bolton  found  her  silver  spoons  safe  though 
they  had  been  in  plain  view  in  a  dining-room  closet. 
Mr.  Bolton  found  no  clothing  missing,  nor  could  the 
subsequent  search  prove  that  anything  whatever 
had  been  taken. 

"I  have  it!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Bolton  suddenly. 
"I  heard  the  cat  scream  terribly  in  the  night.  It  is 
plain  that  the  rascal  stepped  upon  her,  and  then  ran 
away,  supposing  her  noise  would  arouse  the  house. 
What  a  narrow  escape  !  " 


A    CORNER    IN    WHISKEY.  2$ 

Matt  slept  throughout  the  excitement  like  one 
who  has  a  conscience  which  was  not  only  void  of 
offense,  but  had  the  additional  peace  which  comes 
of  virtuous  deeds  successfully  accomplished.  It 
was  only  after  considerable  effort,  indeed,  that  he 
could  be  roused  at  breakfast  time.  As  for  Jack, 
he  was  up  long  before  the  lark,  and  on  his  way  to 
the  market  (which  was  opposite  Hoccamine's  store) 
to  purchase  some  scraps  of  meat  for  a  mythical 
dog.  He  meekly  stood  outside  with  his  package, 
for  what  seemed  to  him  centuries,  awaiting  the 
opening  of  Hoccamine's  store.  Then  he  hurried 
home,  ate  the  merest  excuse  for  a  breakfast,  and 
cooled  his  heels  at  Matt's  woodpile  for  at  least  an 
hour,  and  when  his  companion  finally  appeared, 
yawning  profoundly,  Jack  shouted — 

"  Oh,  Matt,  'twas  worth  a  million  dollars.  Hurry 
up,  can't  you  ?" 

Matt  quickly  roused  himself  to  consciousness 
that  life  was  real,  life  was  earnest,  and  joined  Jack, 
who  exclaimed — 

"  Fun  ?  why  there  was  oceans  of  it,  with  hun 
dreds  of  lakes  and  ponds  thrown  in.  First  there 
came  along  old  Burt,  on  his  way  to  market,  and  as 
soon  as  he  saw  the  stuff  in  little  puddles  by  the 


24  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

curbstone,  and  smelt  what  it  was,  he  just  lay  down 
on  his  stomach  and  began  to  drink.  He  signed  the 
pledge  at  the  last  temperance  meeting,  too  ;  isn't  it 
awful  ?  Then  Captain  Sands  came  along,  and 
stopped  to  look,  and  so  did  Squire  Jones  and  Joe, 
the  barber,  and  everybody  that  came  to  market  saw 
the  crowd  and  went  over,  so  I  thought  'twas  safe 
to  go  over  myself.  All  of  a  sudden  over  came 
Hoccamine,  who  had  been  to  market,  and  then — 
well,  you  never  heard  such  swearing  at  a  fight. 
He  declared  that  somebody  had  been  stealing  it, 
and  Squire  Jones  told  him  it  was  a  righteous 
judgment  on  him,  and  then  Hoccamine  swore  some 
more  and  called  the  Squire  names,  and  the  Squire 
said  he'd  never  buy  another  penny's  worth  from  a 
man  who  had  abused  him  in  that  way,  and  Hoc 
camine  told  him  to  take  his  infernal  pennies  and 
buy  of — of  the  old  fellow  down  below,  you  know, 
if  he  chose.  Then  Hoccamine  opened  the  store  and 
got  out  some  pails  and  scoop-shovels,  and  tried  to 
save  some  of  the  liquor  out  of  the  gutter.  Oh,  it 
was  just  glorious."  And  Jack,  unable  to  express 
his  feelings  in  any  other  way,  danced  about  madly 
and  jumped  over  several  logs  of  wood. 

Then  Matt,  who  has  listened  with  considerable 


A    CORNER     IN    WHISKEY.  25 

interest,  yet  with  a  pre-occupied  air,  told  the  story 
of  the  attempted  burglary,  but  explained  away  the 
supposition  that  the  thief  was  scared  off  by  the 
cat. 

"  That  shows,"  said  Jack,  briskly,  "  how  necessary 
the  work  was  that  we  did  last  night.  Whiskey 
made  that  thief,  you  see — I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
what  you  were  about  at  the  same  time  had  some 
thing  to  do  with  his  being  influenced  to  go  away. 
Don't  you  know  how  these  things  happen  in  books 
sometimes?  I  once  read — 

Jack  suddenly  ceased  talking,  but  burst  out 
laughing,  and  finally  dropped  upon  the  chips  and 
rolled  about  in  a  perfect  convulsion  of  laughter, 
while  Matt  looked  on  in  mute  astonishment. 

"  Oh,  Matt,"  he  exclaimed  finally,  "  don't  you  un 
derstand  ?  That  smell  of  whiskey  was  on  you  some 
where — I  smell  it  now.  And  you  were  so  excited 
when  you  went  in,  that  you  forgot  to  latch  the 
door — I've  done  the  same  thing,  once  or  twice. 
Oh,  oh,  oh,  that's  too  rich.  I'll  die  if  I  can't  tell 
somebody." 

Matt  immediately  swore  his  companion  to  strict 
secresy,  but  later  in  the  day,  which  happened  to 
be  Saturday,  he  became  so  uncomfortable  at  hear- 


26  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

ing  his  father  discuss  the  attempted  burglary  with 
everyone  who  entered  the  store  that  he  confessed 
the  whole  affair  to  Mr.  Bolton.  That  gentleman 
made  a  valiant  effort  at  reproof,  but  he  did  not 
love  Hoccamine  more  than  business  rivals  usually 
love  each  other,  and  he  was  an  earnest  advocate  of 
total  abstinence,  so  he  made  some  excuse  to  get  at 
his  account  books,  and  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day  he  was  subject  to  violent  fits  of  laughter  when 
ever  he  was  not  trying  to  truthfully  modify  his 
story  of  the  burglary  to  the  many  acquaintances 
who  came  in  to  enquire  about  it. 


CHAPTER  III. 

INJURY    AND    RESTITUTION. 

DR.  WITTINGHAM,  whose  only  son  Jack 
was,  sat  in  his  office  one  morning  com 
pounding  a  complicated  and  consequently  a  favorite 
prescription  of  his  own,  and  at  the  same  time  pon 
dering  upon  the  equally  complicated  character  of 
his  boy.  The  doctor  had  been  a  boy  himself,  a 
third  of  a  century  before,  and  an  extremely  lively 
one,  if  the  traditions  of  his  native  village  had  been 
correctly  handed  down,  but  a  man's  memory  is  not 
in  the  habit  of  going  backward  half  a  lifetime,  unless 
in  search  of  old  sweethearts,  so  the  doctor  owned  to 
himself  that  Jack  was  without  exception  the  most 
mischievous  boy  he  had  ever  known  or  heard  of. 

"  It  passes  all  explanation,  too,"  said  the  doctor, 
sitting  down  and  watching  his  prescription  as  it  fil 
tered  slowly  into  a  glass  beneath  it.  "  I'm  a  man 
of  good  behavior  if  ever  there  was  one,  his  mother 
was  a  lady  born  and  bred,  he  knows  the  Bible  better 

27 


28  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

than  our  minister  does,  and  there's  nothing  good  but 
what  the  boy  seems  to  take  a  lively  interest  in.   I  was 
going  to  write  a  book  upon  heredity,  basing  it  upon 
the  development  of  that  boy's  character  as  inherited 
from  his  parents  and  modified  by  such  teachings  as 
I  have  imparted,  to  improve  the  original  stock.    But 
bless  me !     I'm  sometimes  unable  to  find  the  origi 
nal  stock  at  all,  and  as  for  the  improvements  I  intend 
to  make  in  it,  well,  they're  as  invisible  as  the  ail 
ments  of  some  of  my  rich  patients.    Whatever  I  say 
to  him   seems  to  filter  through  him  more  rapidly 
than  that  mixture  is   doing  through  the  paper,  and 
leaves  not  even  a  sediment  behind,  while  whatever 
he  shouldn't  hear  seems  to  stick  to  him  like  an  ad 
hesive  plaster.     Before  he  goes  to  school,  he  recites 
his  lessons  to  me  in  the  most  perfect  manner;  when 
he  comes  home  he  brings  a  written  complaint  from 
the  teacher,  who  has  found  him  outrageously  mis 
chievous  all  day  long  ;    and   when  his  mother  takes 
any  of  his  torn  jackets  and  trowsers  in  hand,  she  is 
certain  to  find  two  or  three  more  documents  of  the 
same  kind  which  Jack  has  kindly  forgotten  to  de 
liver,  perhaps   out  of   regard  for  my  feelings.     He 
will   chop  wood   all   day   Saturday   for  the  Widow 
Batty  or  some  other  needy  person,  until  I  determine 


INJURY    AND    RESTITUTION.  2C) 

he's  growing  to  be  too  good  to  live ;  then  my  own 
dinner  comes  up  underdone  because  he  hasn't  con 
sidered  that  wood-chopping,  like  charity,  should  be 
gin  at  home.  I've  heard  no  complaints  of  him  for 
nearly  a  week;  there  must  be  a  terrible  shower  of 
them  brewing  somewhere." 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  the  town 
supervisor  of  roads  entered. 

"  Ah,  good  morning,"  said  the  doctor,  briskly. 
"  Who's  under  the  weather  now?" 

"Wa'al,"  drawled  the  supervisor,  "nobody,  I 
reckon  'less  its  you.  Here's  a  little  bill  I'm  sorry  to 
have  to  bring  to  you,  but  its  had  to  be  done." 

The  doctor  took  the  paper  from  the  Supervisor's 
hand  and  read  as  follows : 

"  Dr.  Andrew  Wittingham  to  town  of  Doveton, 
Dr.  One-half  cost  of  replacing  Second  Brook  Bridge, 
$11.62." 

"  What  on  earth  does  this  mean?"  exclaimed  the 
doctor  after  reading  the  bill  several  times. 

"  Bolton  has  paid  the  other  half,"  said  the  super 
visor  ;  "  its  for  that  bridge  that  Jack  and  Matt  hook 
ed,  you  know,  and  left  in  the  middle  of  Prewitt's 
corn  field  half  a  mile  from  where  it  belonged." 

"Hooked  a  bridge?"  exclaimed  the  doctor,"! 


3O  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

don't  understand.  Jack  never  said  anything  to  me 
about  it." 

"Didn't  he?"  asked  the  supervisor  with  an  ironi 
cal  grin.  "  Wa'al,  like  enough  he  didn't ;  'twas  dur 
ing  the  June  freshet,  you  know,  an'  the  boys  found 
it  loose,  an'  went  raftin'  around  on  it.  Like  enough 
they'd  have  fetched  it  back,  but  they  rammed  it 
through  one  fence  after  another,  an'  at  last  they  got 
it  aground.  We  tried  to  get  it  under  a  log  wagon 
an'  haul  it  back,  but  'twas  no  go,  an'  we  havn't  put 
the  hire  of  the  wagon  into  the  bill,  for  the  man 
wasn't  to  charge  anything  if  he  didn't  get  it  through. 
Shouldn't  wonder,  though,  if  Prewitt  brought  in  a 
bill  for  damages,  he  says  it'll  do  him  out  of  twen 
ty  hills  of  corn,  besides  being  a  nuisance  to  plough 
around.  An'  he  and  the  next  man  are  out  about  a 
dozen  fence  rails  each." 

The  doctor  recognized  the  inevitable,  yet  re 
marked  that  the  price  seemed  a  large  one  for  a 
bridge  in  a  country  where  lumber  was  so  cheap. 

"  Just  what  it  cost,"  remarked  the  supervisor, 
"  the  whole  thing  came  to  $23.25,  an'  in  dividin'  I 
threw  the  odd  cent  on  to  Bolton,  for  I  think  the 
medical  profession  ought  to  be  encouraged." 

The  doctor  paid  the  bill,  and  bade  his  visitor  a 


INJURY    AND    RESTITUTION.  31 

rather  curt  good  morning.  Then  he  went  to  the 
door  and  shouted  "Jack!"  in  tones  which  would 
have  been  heard  by  the  young  man  if  he  had  been 
at  school,  which  he  was  not. 

"  Jack,"  said  the  doctor,  sternly,  when  the  youth 
appeared,  "  I've  just  had  to  pay  for  a  bridge  which 
you  stole  in  June." 

"  I  didn't,"  promptly  answered  the  boy. 

"  It  amounted  to  the  same  thing,  in  dollars  and 
cents,  as  stealing,"  said  the  doctor.  "  How  many 
hours  of  fun  did  you  have  that  day?" 

Jack  thought  profoundly  for  a  minute  or  two,  and 
replied,  meekly, 

"About  two,  I  suppose." 

"  And  to  pay  for  those  I  have  had  to  lose  the  re 
ceipts  of  about  a  day  of  hard,  disgusting  work.  Do 
you  consider  that  the  fair  thing,  for  one  who  is  do 
ing  everything  he  can  for  your  good  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  replied  Jack,  honestly  contrite  in  the 
presence  of  this  new  view  of  the  case. 

"  Then  why  did  you  do  it  ?" 

"  Because." 

"  Because  what?" 

"  Because." 

"  Because  you're  an  ungrateful  scamp,  and  don't 
care  for  anything  but  your  own  pleasure." 


32  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"Yes  I   do,  father,"  said  Jack,  beginning  to  cry, 


"Don't  make  excuses,'  sir,"  interrupted  the  doc 
tor  ;  "  you  shall  do  extra  work,  at  whatever  a  la 
borer  would  be  paid,  to  make  up  the  cost  of  that 
bridge,  and  do  it  on  your  holidays  and  Saturdays, 
too.  Now  I  want  you  to  go  and  burn  that  old 
bridge,  or  I'll  have  to  pay  for  the  annoyance  it  will 
give  Prewitt." 

Jack  lingered  for  a  moment,  as  bad  boys  often  do 
on  such  occasions,  longing  to  say  something  which 
he  could  not  put  into  words,  and  to  hear  some  rec 
ognition  of  what  he  felt  was  good  within  him.  Had 
the  doctor  used  a  mere  tithe  of  the  patience  and 
love  that  Heaven  had  been  compelled  to  display  in 
reforming  him,  he  might  have  attached  Jack  to  him 
by  that  love  which  is  the  best  of  all  educators  in 
things  wise  and  thoughtful.  But  the  doctor,  like 
the  boy,  lived  first,  though  unconsciously,  for  him 
self,  and  so  with  an  impatient  gesture  he  drove 
Jack  from  the  door.  The  boy  filled  a  pocket  with 
matches  and  lounged  off,  muttering  to  himself, 

"  It'll  be  bully  fun  to  burn  the  old  bridge,  anyhow, 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  would  take  a  couple  of  days, 
an-d  there'll  be  that  much  school  time  gone,  but  I 


INJURY    AND    RESTITUTION.  33 

say — Matt  ought  to  be  made  to  help — oh,  wouldn't 
that  be  jolly  !  I'll  go  ask  his  father  right  away — 
everybody  calls  him  an  honest  man,  and  he  oughtn't 
to  see  me  paying  Matt's  debts." 

Jack  hurried  at  once  to  Mr.  Bolton's  store;  as  he 
entered,  the  proprietor,  who  was  alone,  picked  up  a 
hoe-handle,  and  exclaimed — 

"  You  young  scoundrel,  I've  a  good  mind  to  break 
every  bone  in  your  rascally  body.  Don't  you  ever 
dare  to  coax  my  boy  to  go  anywhere  with  you  again, 
or  I'll  half  kill  you.  You're  the  worst  boy  in 
town." 

Rightly  assuming  that  the  opportunity  for  pre 
senting  his  request  was  not  a  promising  one,  Jack 
departed  at  once,  and  hung  about  the  schoolhouse 
until  the  mid-morning  intermission  ;  then  he  seized 
Matt  and  announced  the  situation,  taking  care  to 
omit  mention  of  his  interview  with  Bolton  senior. 
Matt  at  once  volunteered  assistance,  and  an  hour 
later  the  boys  had  burning  upon  the  bridge  a  glori 
ous  fire  of  dead  boughs  and  broken  rails.  When 
the  boards  had  burned  in  two,  the  boys  pried  the 
two  logs  toward  each  other,  and  thereafter  they  ad 
justed  the  logs  several  times,  getting  each  time  some 
smut  upon  their  clothes  as  well  as  occasional  burns 


34  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

upon  their  hands.  When  at  length  the  logs  seemed 
able  to  take  care  of  themselves  the  boys  strewed 
some  green  twigs  upon  the  ground  to  lie  on,  and  as 
they  were  stretched  upon  them,  chatting  in  the  de 
sultory  manner  peculiar  to  every  one  who  lies  down 
about  a  fire,  Jack  remarked, 

"  Say  Matt,  do  you  know  that  people  in  this  world 
are  awfully  unfair  to  boys  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  do,"  replied  Matt,  "  but  what  made 
you  think  of  it  just  now  ?  " 

"Why,  my  govenor  gave  me  fits  this  morning 
about  this  bridge,  and  called  me  ungrateful  and  all 
sorts  of  things.  I  s'pose  he  thought  he  told  the 
truth,  but  I  know  better.  I'd  do  anything  for  him 
— I'd  die  for  him.  Why,  one  day  that  big  mulatto 
Ijam,  that  he  can  never  collect  his  bills  of,  came  in 
looking  awful  ugly,  and  blazing  about  being  sued, 
and  I  was  sure  he  meant  to  hurt  father ;  I  just  got  a 
hatchet  and  stood  outside  the  door,  ready  to  rush  in 
and  tomahawk  him  if  he  did  the  least  thing.  It 
made  me  late  at  school,  and  I  got  licked  for  that, 
but  I  didn't  care,  and  the  teacher  wrote  a  note  home 
about  it  and  I  got  scolded,  but  I  didn't  tell  what  I'd 
done." 

"  My  father's  the  same  way,  sometimes,"  said 
Matt. 


INJURY    AND    RESTITUTION.  35 

"I  know  he  is,"  said  Jack,  hastily  debating  (with 
decision  in  the  negative)  whether  he  should  tell  of 
his  own  morning  experience  with  Mr.  Bolton. 

"  Now,"  continued  Jack,  "  I've  got  to  work  all  my 
holidays  at  something,  I  don't  know  what,  until  I 
earn  enough  money  to  pay  my  share  of  that  bridge 
— you  know  the  two  govenors  have  had  to  settle  for 
a  new  one  ?  " 

"  Mercy,  no  !  "  exclaimed  Matt. 

"They  have,  this  morning,"  said  Jack.  "I 
shouldn't  wonder  if  you'd  catch  it  when  you  go 
home,  but  there's  some  bully  mullein  leaves  under 
the  hill  that  you  can  put  inside  the  back  of  your 
jacket." 

Matt  devoted  some  moments  of  disagreeable  re 
flection  to  this  topic  ;  then  his  sense  of  companion 
ship  came  to  the  surface,  and  he  said — 

"I'll  help  you,  Jack — unless  father  punishes  me 
in  the  same  way.  What  do  you  suppose  you'll  have 
to  do?" 

"I  don't  know  yet,"  said  Jack,  "but  I've  got  a 
splendid  idea.  The  govenor  has  just  bought  his 
winter's  supply  of  wood,  as  he  generally  does  in 
June,  and  he  always  has  it  cut  while  its  green  be 
cause  it  costs  only  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  cord, 


36  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

while  the  men  charge  a  dollar  and  a  half  when  its 
seasoned.  I'll  ask  him  to  let  me  work  it  out  in  that 
way." 

"Why,  Jack,"  remonstrated  Matt,  "it  will  take 
you  more  than  half  a  year  of  holidays." 

"  No,  it  won't,"  said  Jack,  "  I  can  chop  nearly  a 
cord  a  day  when  I  work  hard.  Besides,  I've  got  an 
idea  worth  more  than  my  own  industry.  I'm  going 
to  blow  at  school,  and  around  among  the  boys, 
about  what  a  splendid  wood-chopper  I  am." 

"  I'll  say  the  same  thing  about  you,"  said  Matt. 

"All  right;  we'll  both  talk  of  my  particular 
swing  with  the  axe  until  the  whole  crowd  will  be 
mad  enough  to  take  the  conceit  out  of  me  at  any 
price.  Then  I'll  offer  a  bet  of  someting  worth 
having — a  half-dollar  against  half  a  dime,  say — that 
I  can  chop  and  split  more  in  a  single  day  than  any 
other  boy  in  town.  Lots  of  them  will  take  up  the 
bet,  we'll  appoint  a  day,  the  place  to  be  our  wood, 
pile,  and  every  boy  to  bring  his  own  axe.  You 
shall  be  umpire,  so  you  won't  have  to  do  anything 
but  walk  about  and  egg  the  others  up  to  business." 

This  brilliant  device  took  complete  possession  of 
Matt,  and  as  for  Jack,  within  a  week  there  was  not 
a  boy  in  town  who  could  pass  him  without  making 


INJURY    AND    RESTITUTION.  37 

a  face  at  him,  and  scarcely  a  mother  dependant 
upon  her  own  boys  for  fuel  but  had  an  abundant 
supply  without  having  to  beg  for  it.  Many  indig 
nant  boys  offered  indefinite  bets  in  favor  of  their 
own  skill  with  the  axe,  but  the  sagacious  Jack  de 
clined  them  all  on  the  ground  that  he  could  not 
honorably  bet  on  what  he  called  a  sure  thing. 
When  finally  he  offered  his  own  wager,  it  was 
accepted  by  acclamation  by  nearly  the  whole  of 
his  own  arithmetic  class,  numbering  twenty-nine. 
The  boys  from  the  other  school  hoped  they  were 
not  to  be  excluded  just  because  they  lived  in  a 
different  part  of  the  town,  and  Matt  went  on  a 
special  mission  to  them  to  assure  them  that  this 
was  to  be,  figuratively  speaking,  an  international 
contest,  in  which  all  territorial  lines  were  to  be  as  if 
they  existed  not.  Some  other  boys  who  never 
went  to  school,  hardened  young  rowdies,  who,  as  a 
rule  did  nothing,  and  accumulated  a  large  stock  of 
vitality  which  was  not  always  expended  in  proper 
ways,  heard  of  the  approaching  match,  swore  by 
all  sorts  of  persons,  places  and  things  that  they 
jnly  wished  they  might  "  take  a  whack  at  that 
^ame,"  and  were  cordially  invited  to  participate. 
Then  the  would-be  contestants  met  in  convention, 


38  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

and  Jack  formally  deposited  his  half  dollar  in  the 
hands  of  Matt,  who  was  to  be  stake-holder.  There 
being  some  difficulty  in  deciding  how  the  bets 
against  Jack  were  to  be  held,  the  challenger  mag 
nanimously  declined  to  accept  any  bet,  if  the 
crowd  would  agree,  each  for  himself,  that  the  man 
who  cut  least,  and  he  alone,  should  be  loser  of  a 
half  dime  in  case  of  Jack's  triumph. 

After  a  fair  canvass  of  conflicting  interests  as  to 
date,  which  involved  the  withdrawal  of  several  boys 
who  had  agreed  to  go  fishing  or  shooting,  or  berry 
ing,  or  visiting,  it  was  decided  that  the  ensuing 
Saturday  morning  would  be  the  most  available 
time,  particularly  as  Jack  explained  that  his  father 
who,  he  was  sure,  would  stop  the  whole  thing  if  he 
heard  of  it  in  advance,  would  start  before  daylight 
that  morning  to  attend  a  consultation  miles  away 
by  rail.  The  idea  that  the  proceeding  would  be 
displeasing  to  any  adult  silenced  at  once  the  objec 
tions  of  all  who  had  preferred  another  date,  and  it 
even  brought  back  the  boys  who  had  pleaded  prior 
engagements. 

As  for  Dr.  Wittingham,  he  was  completely 
astounded  and  wonderfully  pleased  when  Jack,| 
with  a  frank  business-like  air,  proposed  to  cut  the 


INJURY    AND     RESTITUTION.  39 

ten  cords  of  winter  wood  as  an  offset  to  the  bridge 
bill  of  eleven  dollars  and  sixty-two  cents.  The 
doctor  patted  Jack's  head,  called  him  a  noble  fel 
low,  gave  him  a  stick  of  licorice,  and  promised  him 
a  dollar  for  himself  on  the  completion  of  the  work. 
"  Now,"  said  the  doctor,  when  Jack  had  left  his 
presence,  "  I  think  I've  a  good  hard  point  for  that 
work  on  heredity;  Impose  a  rational  penalty  for 
offense,  and  its  manifest  justice  will  improve  both 
the  reasoning  and  moral  nature  of  the  offender." 


CHAPTER   IV 

SHARP    AXES    AND    SHARPER    WITS. 

DURING  the  week  preceding  the  great  contest 
with  axes  there  was  very  little  truancy, 
fighting  or  bad  hours  to  be  complained  of  by  the 
parents  of  the  boys  of  Doveton.  The  excitement 
natural  to  an  approaching  struggle  was  sufficient 
even  for  the  nerves  of  the  most  irrepressible  juve 
nile  natures  in  town.  Most  of  the  boys  went  into 
training  at  their  respective  family  wood  piles,  and 
those  who  had  no  uncut  wood  on  hand  resorted  to 
the  unprecedented  operation  of  requesting  permis 
sion  to  work  at  that  of  somebody  else.  The  story 
of  the  bet  became  noised  abroad,  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  town,  and  several  sturdy  country  boys  having 
signified  their  desire  to  earn  fifty  cents  by  a  half 
day's  work,  the  crowd  allowed  them  to  enter  for  the 
contest,  for  anything  TV  as  more  endurable  than  Jack 
Wittingham's  conceit ;  Jack  himself  welcomed  them, 
of  course,  in  the  most  hearty  manner  in  the  world. 

40 


SHARP  AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS.  41 

Toward  the  last  of  the  week  the  sound  of  the  grind 
stone  was  heard  in  the  land,  and  as  several  boys 
had  asked  and  received  permission  to  use  saws  in 
stead  of  axes,  the  melodious  voice  of  the  hand  saw 
file  arose  to  stimulate  in  nervous  persons  of  religious 
tendencies  an  increased  appreciation  of  the  prom 
ised  peace  of  Heaven.  Then  every  carpenter  who 
owned  a  boy  of  wood-chopping  age  suddenly  missed 
his  best  oil  stone,  and  sundry  axes  had  their  edges 
dressed  so  keenly  that  no  one  denied  their  owner's 
assertions  that  a  man  might  shave  himself  with 
those  axes  and  not  know  but  they  were  rabbit 
paws  or  puff  balls.  The  juvenile  rowdies,  who 
treasured  old  copies  of  sporting  papers,  read  up  on 
the  training  of  prize-fighters,  with  the  result  that 
they  indulged  in  ablutions  with  unhabitual  fre 
quency,  and  took  an  amount  and  variety  of  exercise 
which  threatened  to  exorcise  the  demon  which  in 
habits  the  juvenile  loafer. 

The  morn  of  the  eventful  day  dawned  at  last, 
and,  early  as  it  was  when  Doctor  Wittingham  had 
to  start  for  the  railway  station,  there  was  already 
approaching  his  woodpile  fat  Billy  Barker,  who  was 
so  treacherous  a  sleeper  that  he  had  remained  awake 
all  night  so  as  to  be  on  hand  in  time  in  the  morning. 


42  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

Then  one  of  the  loafers,  whose  family  owned  no  time 
piece,  lounged  up,  and  made  Billy  very  uncomfort 
able  with  prophecies  that  a  certain  boy  would  hardly 
escape  melting  on  such  a  warm  day  as  that  par 
ticular  Saturday  promised  to  be,  and  that  only  a 
pair  of  leg  boots  conld  be  trusted  to  save  enough 
of  the  remains  to  justify  a  full  sized  funeral.  Then 
one  of  the  country  boys  appeared,  riding  bareback 
upon  an  ancient  mare,  and  his  extreme  taciturnity 
became  as  annoying  to  Billy  as  the  chaffing  of  the 
loafer  had  been,  while  the  loafer  himself  visibly 
abated  his  arrogance  by  a  degree  or  two.  Then  the 
Pinkshaw  twins  approached,  each  with  an  axe  in 
one  hand  and  a  piece  of  bread  and  butter  in  the  , 
other.  Matt  Bolton  came  next,  quite  out  of  breath, 
for  though  he  had  half  an  hour  to  spare,  a  sense  of 
his  official  responsibility  had  somehow  impelled  him  j 
to  run  every  step  of  the  way  from  his  own  home. 
Lame  Joey  Wilson  staggered  in  soon  after,  with  his  ! 
heavy  "  saw  horse  "  and  saw,  and  close  behind  him 
came*  a  country  boy  whose  family  had  brought  him 
as  far  as  the  main  street  in  the  farm  wagon.  Then 
two  loafers,  successful  catchers  of  occasional  saw 
logs  and  drift  wood,  lounged  up  from  the  river. 
Several  boys  from  the  neighborhood  known  as  the 


SHARP   AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS.  43 

other  side  of  town,  approached  in  a  body,  led  by 
big  Frank  Parker,  who  was  the  largest  boy  in  school 
and  who  it  was  always  considered  a  privilege  to 
follow.  Then  as  the  hour  for  business  came  nearer, 
boys  approached  from  all  directions  so  rapidly  that 
they  could  scarcely  be  catalogued,  and  when  Matt 
drew  his  sister's  watch  from  his  pocket  for  the 
twentieth  time  and  announced  that  it  was  ten  min 
utes  of  eight,  there  were  present  forty-three  boys, 
five  horses  (belonging  to  the  delegation  from  the 
country),  besides  three  unemployed  men  who  had 
come  to  look  on.  The  stalwart  appearance  of  some 
of  the  larger  contestants  terrified  certain  small, 
weak  and  lazy  boys  into  determining  to  throw  up 
the  sponge  in  advance,  but  when  the  challenger,  the 
boastful  Jack  himself,  sauntered  out  from  the  house 
with  an  axe  on  his  shoulder,  a  toothpick  in  his 
mouth  and  an  intolerable  air  of  self-sufficiency  in 
his  face,  the  nerves  of  the  most  timid  boy  grew  sud 
denly  as  fine  as  steel,  and  he  determined  to  drop 
lead  on  his  axe  rather  than  let  that  bragging  Jack 
:row  over  him  any  longer. 

Suddenly  Matt  mounted  the  wood  pile,  con- 
ulted  his  sister's  watch,  and  exclaimed— 

"  Only  five  minutes  more.     Now,  fellows,  this  is 


44  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

to  be  a  fair  fight,  you  know.  Every  man  picks  his 
own  place,  carries  wood  to  it  from  the  pile,  cuts 
each  stick  into  three  equal  lengths,  and  throws  in 
front  of  him  whatever  he  chops.  If  at  twelve 
o'clock  there's  any  doubt  who  has  done  most,  the 
biggest  piles  are  to  be  laid  up  straight  against  a 
stake,  and  carefully  measured.  Nobody  need  split 
his  wood.  When  it's  time  to  begin,  I'll  holloa 
'  One,  two,  three — go  !  '  and  when  twelve  o'clock 
comes  I'll  say  '  One,  two,  three — stop  !  '  I'll  have 
a  pail  of  water  and  a  cup  here  by  the  fence,  for  any 
one  who  wants  a  drink." 

The  boys  were  already  carrying  the  four  foot 
sticks  of  wood  to  their  chosen  locations,  and  be 
tween  the  confusion  of  selecting  desirable  places 
and  that  occasioned  by  snatching  from  a  wood-pile 
which  did  not  afford  elbow-room  for  forty-three 
boys  at  a  time,  there  was  considerable  bad  feeling 
engendered,  and  sundry  punishments  with  impolite 
names  were  promised  for  the  indefinite  future. 
The  country  boys  had  judiciously  hugged  the  ends 
of  the  wood-pile  from  the  moment  of  their  arrival, 
which  prospective  advantage  certain  other  boys  at 
tempted  to  nullify  by  taking  wood  from  the  ends, 
and  there  might  have  ensued  a  serious  collision  had 


SHARP  AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS.  45 

not  Matt,  who  had  moved  the  judge's  stand  from 
the  wood-pile  to  the  fence,  shouted, 

"  Eight  o'clock.     One,  two,  three — go !  " 
Thirty-nine   axes  came   down   nearly  as  one,  and 
four  saws  began  a  not   discordant   quartette  across 
the   bark   of   sundry  sticks,  while   the   three   unem 
ployed    men    thrust    their   hands   deep    into    their 
pockets  and  adjured  the  boys,  collectively,  to  "go 
in."     A  chip  from  fat  Billy  Barker's  axe  started  to 
avenge  Billy  upon  his  tormentor  of  an  hour  before, 
and  it  struck  the  loafer  in  the  back  of  the  neck  with 
such   force  that  the  bad  boy  howled  with  anguish, 
and  volubly  condemned  his  soul  to  all  sorts  of  un 
comfortable  places  and  conditions.     The  axes  soon 
broke  the  uniformity  of  their  stroke ;  some  flew  at 
the  rate  of  nearly  a  blow  a  second,  others,  particu 
larly   those    of  the  country   boys,    were  slow,    but 
oh,   so   regular!     Still   others,   confined   almost   ex- 
\  clusively  to  the  loafers,   struck   the  wood   rapidly 
and  with  a  particularly  vicious  hardness  which  was 
not  without  its  influence  upon  boys  of  small  spirit. 
The   peculiar   ringing   of   an    occasional    "  glance " 
was  heard,  and  soon  a  yell   from   Scoopy  Brown, 
who  was  a  very  awkward  boy,  called  general  atten 
tion   to    that    youth,    who   was   sitting    upon    the 


46  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

ground  holding  one  of  his  feet  and  weeping  bit 
terly.  A  careful  examination  determined  that  his 
axe  had  not  gone  deeper  than  the  stocking,  so 
Scoopy  dried  his  tears  and  began  work  again,  his 
spirits  sharpened  by  many  uncomplimentary  re 
marks  by  the  loafers  and  others  who  had  lost  time 
by  stopping  work  to  look  at  him. 

Within  a  quarter  of  an  hour  fat  Billy  Barker  had 
visited  the  water-pail  three  times  ;  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  later  he  was  curled  up  with  agony  beside  the 
fence,  his  only  consolation  consisting  in  making 
dreadful  faces  at  the  big  loafer  who  had  proved  a 
tolerable  prophet.  At  the  same  time  two  other 
boys,  one  of  whom  had  broken  an  arm  within  three 
months,  and  the  other  being  so  small  that  he 
realized  the  folly  of  contending  against  many  large 
boys,  retired  from  the  contest,  and  took  place 
among  the  spectators,  who  already  consisted  of 
seven  men,  one  woman  (with  baby)  and  two  dogs. 
Then  one  of  the  loafers  declared  that  although  he 
could  beat  as  easily  as  falling  off  a  log,  fifty  cents 
wouldn't  pay  for  half  a  day  of  work  under  such  a 
sun.  Of  the  spare  forty  who  remained,  nearly  half 
were  of  apoplectic  hue,  so  that  Matt  the  umpire, 
consulting  his  sister's  watch,  felt^  in  duty  bound  to 


SHARP  AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS.  47 

inform  them  that  barely  half  an  hour  had  elapsed, 
and  that  they  would  never  get  through  the  morning 
unless  they  took  things  easier. 

As  for  Jack,  he  did  splendidly.  With  great 
sagacity  he  had  selected  the  largest  sticks,  these  re 
quiring  less  handling,  and  fewer  delays  between  an 
old  stick  and  a  new  one,  besides  making  a  heap 
look  more  bulky.  His  axe  was  in  capital  condition, 
as  his  physique  always  was,  his  nerve  was  equally 
good,  and  he  had  the  additional  incentive  of  want 
ing  to  keep  up  the  general  interest,  which  would  be 
sure  to  flag  if  he  were  discovered  to  be  falling  be 
hind.  The  country  boys  led  him  a  close  race,  and 
compelled  him  to  do  his  best,  as  did  also  two  of  the 
loafers.  At  the  end  of  the  first  hour,  Matt  the 
umpire,  who  had  attended  closely  to  his  sister's 
watch  for  the  ten  minutes  preceding,  shouted 
"  Nine  o'clock,"  and  most  of  the  country  boys 
stopped  for  a  brief  rest.  Jack  was  glad  to  follow 
their  example,  and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the 
loafers  took  a  flask  bottle  from  his  pocket  and 
swallowed  considerable  whiskey.  A  request,  prof 
fered  by  another  loafer,  that  the  bottle  be  passed 
was  met  by  a  reply  similar  in  tenor  to  that  given 
by  the  five  wise  virgins  to  their  foolish  companions, 


48  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

and  the  apparent  meanness  of  this  proceeding  made 
even  the  weariest  boy  determine  to  at  least  beat 
that  particular  loafer. 

Half-past  nine  came,  and  with  it  a  loud  snap 
which  proved  to  proceed  from  the  saw  block  of 
lame  Joey  Wilson.  As  Joey  was  a  very  pleasant 
little  fellow,  with  a  widowed  mother  whose  lot  in 
life  was  not  the  easiest,  another  boy,  who  had  a 
saw,  pressed  it  upon  Joey,  and  thus  honorably  re 
tired  from  a  contest  which  had  kept  his  back  aching 
frightfully  for  nearly  an  hour.  Then  two  or  three 
other  boys  honestly  acknowledged  themselves  com 
pletely  used  up,  and  they  retired  to  such  shade  as 
the  fence  afforded  and  constituted  themselves  an 
invalid  corps  of  observation.  The  loafer  who  had 
drank  the  whiskey  dropped  suddenly,  muttered 
something  about  sunstroke,  and  crawled  away  un- 
lamented  by  any  one. 

At  the  cry  of  "  Ten  o'clock !"  the  working  force 
had  dwindled  to  twenty-seven  axes  and  two  saws. 
Two  boys  had  been  legitimately  summoned  from 
the  field  by  their  legal  guardians,  and  at  least  half 
a  dozen  others  longed  earnestly  for  a  similar  fate. 
Jack  began  to  be  doubtful  of  the  entire  success  of 
his  scheme,  but  the  country  boys  all  stuck  manfully 


SHARP  AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS.  49 

to  business,  and  at  least  one  of  them  was  begin 
ning  to  show  signs  of  becoming  excited.  The  re 
maining  loafers,  too,  hung  on  very  well,  and  so  did 
a  spare  half  dozen  of  other  boys,  mostly  large. 
The  crowd  was  still  large  and  industrious  enough  to 
astonish  several  farmers  who  drove  into  town,  and 
the  road  became  literally  paved  with  chips.  The 
invalid  corps  increased  at  about  the  rate  of  four  men 
an  hour  between  ten  and  eleven,  but  by  this  time 
Jack's  mind  was  easy,  for  the  only  danger  was  that 
there  would  not  be  wood  enough  left  with  which 
the  fittest  who  survived  could  complete  the  half 
day.  Nearly  all  the  loafers  broke  down,  as  loafers 
always  do  during  the  decisive  hour,  and  the  strife 
narrowed  down  to  the  country  boys,  one  loafer,  big 
Frank  Parker,  lame  Joey  Wilson  and  Jack.  Each 
boy  had  his  special  adherents  ;  the  loafers  cheered 
their  own  representative  with  much  outlandish 
language,  most  of  the  men  encouraged  the  country 
boys,  the  delegation  from  the  other  side  of  town 
urged  big  Frank  Parker  to  "  lay  himself  out,"  to 
"  come  down  lively,"  to  "  sling  himself,"  and  to  do 
many  other  things  which  to  the  youthful  mind 
seem  best  signified  by  idioms  of  great  peculiarity, 
but  the  mass  of  sympathy  was  pretty  equally 


5O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

divided  between  Jack  and  lame  Joey  Wilson.  Elig 
ible  sticks  of  wood  began  to  be  sought  at  the  piles 
of  those  who  had  abandoned  the  contest,  and  Matt 
the  umpire  had  to  exert  the  extreme  measure  of  his 
authority  to  prevent  the  partizans  of  the  two  favor 
ites  from  rushing  in  and  carrying  wood  for  them. 
The  breaking  of  the  axe-helve  of  one  of  the  coun 
try  boys  elicited  a  tremendous  roar  from  the  entire 
assemblage,  which  was  now  upon  its  feet.  The 
lame  Joey  Wilson  faction  began  to  sing  the  chorus 
"  Go  in  lemons,  if  you  do  get  squeezed,"  which  was 
known  to  be  Joey's  favorite  air  and  the  song  stimu- 
ated  Joey  wonderfully,  noting  which  fact  the  ad 
herents  of  Jack  started  "  John  Brown's  body  lies 
mouldering  in  the  grave,"  which  Jack  was  known  to 
consider  the  finest  thing  ever  written.  But  some 
how  the  tune  did  not  stimulate  Jack  as  it  was  ex 
pected  to  do  ;  perhaps  the  words  with  which  the 
air  is  indissolubly  associated  had  a  depressing  ef 
fect  upon  him,  besides,  the  two  songs  were  roared 
with  about  equal  volume  of  sound,  and  as  they  are 
written  in  different  keys,  measures,  and  time,  the 
general  effect  was  horribly  discordant  and  annoy 
ing  to  a  tired  man. 

At  half  past    eleven    the  remaining  sticks,  like 


SHARP  AXES  AND  SHARPER  WITS.  51 

angels'  visits,  became  far  between,  and  finally  dwin 
dled  to  one,  over  which  two  of  the  country  boys 
fought,  dropping  it  in  their  struggle,  to  be  triumph 
antly  snatched  and  sawed  by  lame  Joey  Wilson. 
Then  Matt,  the  umpire,  first  ascertaining  from  his 
sister's  watch  that  it  was  not  yet  twelve  o'clock,  an 
nounced  that  any  man  might  take  a  stick  from  any 
other  man  who  had  uncut  sticks  before  him.  At 
thirteen  minutes  of  twelve,  five  of  the  six  country 
boys  were  upon  their  last  sticks  and  the  other  had 
a  single  stick  yet  uncut  before  him,  which  seemed 
to  lie  between  Jack  and  lame  Joey  Wilson.  Jack's 
axe  glanced  several  times  and  Joey  got  the  stick, 
and  at  precisely  ten  minutes  before  twelve  Joey  had 
the  last  stick  reposing  in  three  pieces  upon  his  pile. 
The  whole  crowd  rushed  in,  but  Matt  shouted — 

"  Everybody  get  back — quick — get  back  !  every 
man  piles  his  own  wood  !  " 

Some  little  delay  occasioned  by  the  difficulty  of 
getting  stakes  against  which  to  stake  the  piles 
which  seemed  largest,  was  ended  by  an  order  to  pile 
against  the  fence.  It  was  generally  admitted,  by 
every  one  but  the  country  boys,  that  the  decision 
must  be  between  Jack  and  Joey,  and  as  Jack  was 
quick  upon  his  feet  and  Joey,  an  account  of  his 


52  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

lame  leg,  was  slow,  the  former  was  allowed  to  assist 
the  latter,  but  no  one  noticed  that  Jack  took  con 
siderable  wood  from  the  piles  of  the  boys  who  had 
been  unsuccessful  with  the  saw  ;  the  result  was  that 
Joey's  pile  was  so  much  the  larger  that  no  one  in 
sisted  upon  a  measurement,  and  Matt  handed  the 
half  dollar  to  lame  Joey  Wilson  without  a  protest 
from  any  one,  though  the  shouts  that  went  up 
formed  a  conglomerate  sound  which  was  truly  ap 
palling  to  any  adult  ear  which  it  reached. 

Then  the  boys  separated  and  started  homeward 
with  their  respective  axes,  saws,  and  saw-horses. 
Dr.  Wittingham  met  several  of  them,  as  he  returned 
at  an  earlier  hour  than  Jack  had  expected  from  his 
consultation.  What  to  make  of  the  unusual  num 
ber  of  business  looking  boys  he  did  not  know,  but 
as  he  went  around  to  the  wood-pile  to  see  how  his 
son  had  begun  his  self-imposed  penalty,  the  truth 
dawned  upon  him,  and  he  exclaimed: 

"  I've  used  every  evening  this  week  upon  that 
chapter  of  heredity,  and  now  it  isn't  worth  the  pa 
per  it's  written  on !  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

EXPERIMENTS    IN    GRAVITATION. 

AS  June  disappeared  in  the  beginning  of  July, 
the  long  vacation  of  the  Doveton  schools 
began,  and  with  it  began  Dr.  Wittingham's  special 
and  particular  annual  annoyance,  which  consisted  of 
keeping  Jack  out  of  mischief.  To  compel  the  boy 
to  work  all  the  while  was  something  at  which  the 
good  doctor's  heart  naturally  revolted,  but  it  seemed 
that  when  Jack  was  unoccupied  even  for  half  an 
hour  an  indignant  complaint  by  some  one  was  ab 
solutely  sure  to  follow.  The  doctor  was  not  the 
only  man  who  had  charge  of  a  boy  of  mischieveous 
tendencies,  so  there  was  considerable  private  jubila 
tion  among  parents  when  a  lone  foreigner  strayed 
into  the  town,  announced  himself  as  a  Polish  exile, 
and  offered  to  carry  a  class  in  French  through  the 
summer  vacation.  The  French  language  was  not 
held  in  intelligent  esteem  by  all  Doveton  parents, 
but  every  one  of  them  understood  the  value  of 

53 


54  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

peace  of  mind,  so  within  forty-eight  hours  the 
exile  was  guaranteed  an  eight  weeks  class  of 
twenty  boys,  at  six  dollars  per  boy,  and  was 
granted  the  upper  floor  of  one  of  the  school- 
houses  free  of  rent. 

This  arrangement  for  the  consumption  of  the  sum 
mer  vacation  did  not  meet  Jack's  views  at  all,  and 
he  protested  so  strongly  that  the  doctor  yielded, 
after  exacting  perfect  behavior  as  the  price  of  lib 
erty.  Jack  promised  ;  he  would  have  promised  any 
thing  rather  than  have  spent  all  those  delicious  days 
indoors.  There  was  altogether  too  much  out-of- 
doors  that  demanded  his  attention  ;  the  blackberry 
harvest  in  which  Jack  earned  most  of  his  year's 
spending  money,  came  in  July;  the  march  of  civili 
zation  was  working  destruction  with  hazel-nut 
patches,  so  that  prudent  boys  desired  to  know  in 
advance  where  not  to  go  in  the  fall ;  it  was  the  "  off 
year "  for  black  walnuts,  so  it  was  advisable  to  as 
certain  where  were  the  few  trees  which  neglected 
to  be  in  the  fashion  ;  there  were  several  young  or 
chards  which  had  bloomed  for  the  first  time,  and 

% 

must  be  visited  for  sampling  purposes,  lest  per 
chance  there  might  some  very  early  varieties  come 
into  bearing  and  be  gathered  before  he  had  seen 


EXPERIMENTS    IN    GRAVITATION.  55 

them,  slippery  elm  bark  was  not  entirely  past  its 
prime,  several  new  kinds  of  fish-bait  were  to  be 
tested  on  the  perch  which  Jack  was  sure  dwelt  in 
jealous  seclusion  in  certain  deep  holes  in  the  river, 
the  country  district  was  to  be  scoured  for  new  litters 
of  puppies  of  desirable  breed — in  short  Jack  had  so 
much  work  laid  out  that  the  vacation  promised  to 
be  a  very  busy  one. 

But  by  the  time  the  French  class  had  been  in 
session  a  week,  Jack  began  to  feel  unutterably  lone 
some.  Matt  was  in  the  class  ;  so  was  lame  Joey 
Wilson,  who  was  always  a  pleasant  companion ;  the 
Pinkshaw  twins,  who  had  no  equal  as  tree-climbers, 
were  also  there,  and  so  was  big  Frank  Parker,  whose 
superior  strength  and  wisdom  were  not  to  be  de 
spised.  Jack  gave  unwonted  attention  to  the  family 
garden  so  as  to  be  within  sound  of  the  mid-morning 
intermission,  and  when  the  teacher's  bell  summoned 
the  boys  back  to  school  again,  Jack  not  unfrequently 
sat  upon  the  school  wood-pile  during  the  long  hour 
which  ensued  before  the  dismissal  which  brought 
him  and  the  boys  together  again.  Then  satan  be 
gan  to  find  mischief  for  Jack's  idle  hands,  and  small 
pebbles  not  unfrequently  flew  into  the  open  windows 
of  the  school-room,  occasioning  pleasing  diversions 


56  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

for  the  boys  and  annoyance  for  the  teacher.  Every 
body  knew  who  threw  them,  but  when  questioned 
by  the  teacher  they  all,  with  general  mental  reser 
vation,  professed  utter  ignorance.  The  exile-teacher 
was  not  of  the  best  temper,  so  he  took  his  stand 
near  a  window,  with  the  text-book  in  one  hand  and 
half  a  brick  in  the  other,  but  Jack,  warned  by 
friendly  hands  hanging  out  of  the  windows  of  the 
side  upon  which  the  teacher  stood,  operated  from 
the  other  side  and  occasioned  many  spirited  races 
against  time,  the  teacher's  course  being  across  the 
schoolroom,  while  Jack's  goal  was  the  friendly  shel 
ter  of  the  schoolhouse  porch.  But  even  this  diver 
sion  grew  tiresome,  and  Jack,  from  pure  loneliness, 
finally  came  to  sneaking  up  the  stairway,  sitting  on 
the  floor  of  the  hall,  and  listening  by  the  hour  to 
what  to  him  seemed  the  idiotic  jabber  of  his  late 
schoolmates. 

Then  listening  itself  grew  tiresome ;  besides,  the 
position  was  uncomfortable,  so  one  day  Jack  climbed 
up  the  little  hatchway  which  led  to  the  cockpit  and 
belfry,  laid  a  board  across  several  beams,  stretched 
himself  upon  it,  and  listened  at  ease,  for  there  were 
sundry  cracks  in  the  ceiling.  Jack  was  not  long  in 
discovering  that  one  of  these  cracks,  in  its  meander- 


EXPERIMENTS    IN    GRAVITATION.  57 

ings,  passed  directly  over  the  teacher's  chair,  and 
that  sundry  small  fragments  of  plaster  could  be 
scratched  from  its  sides  and  dropped  upon  the  ex 
ile's  head. 

This  discovery  aroused  the  inventive  spirit  which 
seems  dormant  in  the  mind  of  every  American, 
waiting  only  for  appropriate  occasion  to  call  it  forth, 
Jack  carefully  marked  that  portion  of  the  crack 
which  directly  overhung  the  teacher's  head.  He 
remained  where  he  was  until  school  was  dismissed ; 
then  he  cautiously  picked  at  the  side  of  the  crack, 
between  two  laths,  until  it  was  wide  enough  to  ad 
mit  a  grain  of  corn  dropped  edgewise  ;  then  he  went 
below,  dusted  away  the  fallen  plaster  with  his  hat, 
and  went  home  through  the  unlocked  door  with  a 
feeling  that  the  next  morning  was  at  least  six  weeks 
away. 

But  the  next  morning  came,  according  to  all  cor 
rect  timepieces,  at  the  proper  hour,  and  the  French 
class  had  got  fairly  under  way  upon  some  of  the  ex 
asperating  paradigms  of  an  irregular  verb,  when 
suddenly  a  grain  of  corn  fell  upon  the  bald  head  of 
the  exile.  Fat  Billy  Barker,  who  was  abler  at  star 
ing  than  studying,  happened  to  see  the  falling  body, 
and  as  the  startled  teacher  arose  from  his  chair, 


58  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

Billy  began  to  laugh.  The  teacher  immediately 
marked  him  as  the  offender,  dashed  at  him  and  gave 
him  several  hard  blows  with  a  switch,  after  which 
Billy  put  his  head  down  upon  his  desk,  wept,  and 
declined  to  make  a  statement.  But  the  teacher  had 
hardly  reseated  himself  when  another  missile  of  the 
same  sort  had  struck  him ;  Billy's  head  and  hands 
being  still  down,  the  teacher  exclaimed, 

"  Oh,  Barkare,  zen  it  was  not  you  ;  I  vill  apolo 
gize,  Barkare, — I  have  mooch  sorrow.  Vatever  boy 
it  vas  should  be  whipped  by  Barkare  !  " 

Again  the  recitation  began  and  another  grain  of 
corn  fell,  this  time  in  full  view  of  the  entire  school. 
A  general  titter  resulted,  and  this  so  enraged  the 
teacher  that  he  strolled  rapidly  down  the  aisles,  dis 
playing  two- rows  of  terribly  white  teeth,  and  shak 
ing  his  ruler  at  nearly  every  boy  individually.  This 
operation  had  a  very  sobering  effect,  and  even  Jack 
was  so  appalled  by  the  noise  of  the  teacher's  foot 
falls  that  he  remained  quiet  nearly  an  hour.  Finally 
he  dropped  two  grains  in  quick  succession,  and  the 
boys,  who  had  been  feverishly  awaiting  something 
new,  laughed  aloud  with  one  accord.  The  teacher 
sprang  to  his  feet,  seized  both  ruler  and  switch,  and 
roared 


EXPERIMENTS   IN    GRAVITATION.  59 

"  Now,  who  did  it  ?  Barkare,  you  vill  tell  me,  an' 
let  me  avenge  ze  vipping  you  did  haf  ?  " 

Billy  gulped  down  the  truth  and  declared  he  did 
not  know. 

"  Vilson,"  shouted  the  teacher,  "you  is  ze  good 
boy  of  ze  school ;  you  will  tell  me,  I  know,  Vil 
son?" 

But  Joey,  looking  as  innocent  as  if  he  were  saying 
his  prayers,  shook  his  head  negatively. 

"  Mistare  Frank  Parkare,"  continued  the  teacher, 
"  you  haf  nearly  ze  years  of  a  man,  and  cannot  en- 
choy  to  see  ze  destruction  of  discipline.  Who  vas 
it  that  throw  ze  corn-grain." 

And  big  Frank  Parker  unblushingly  and  solemnly 
said  that  he  did  not  know. 

"  Efferybody  tell  me,"  exclaimed  the  teacher,  re 
suming  his  chair  with  dignity,  "  or  ze  class  will  stay 
in  ze  room  till  it  starve  to  death.  How  like  you  zat, 
mes  gardens,  eh?" 

The  boys  did  not  seem  particularly  to  enjoy  the 
prospect,  and  Jack  himself  sobered  somewhat  at  the 
thought  of  inflicting  such  a  penalty  upon  his  friends. 
But  just  there  he  conceived  a  new  idea,  and  emerg 
ing  quietly  from  his  hiding  place,  he  ran  home,  ob 
tained  a  vial  from  his  father's  office,  filled  it  with 


6O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

water,  and  hurried  back.  He  was  anxious  to  see 
as  well  as  to  hear  the  result  of  his  impending  oper 
ation,  so  he  removed  his  board,  lay  along  one  of  the 
beams,  steadying  himself  by  his  left  hand,  and  held 
the  mouth  of  the  vial  over  the  teacher's  head. 
Lame  Joey  Wilson  was  just  translating  fragmentar- 
ily,  as  follows : 

"  Avez-vous-le-chien-rouge-du-charpentier-avec — 
What  the  carpenter-owner  of  the  dog  really  had, 
remained  unexplained  during  the  remainder  of  the 
session.  Jack  had  intended  to  let  but  a  single  drop 
of  water  fall,  and  he  could  generally  trust  his  hand 
at  such  work,  for  his  father  sometimes  allowed  him 
to  assist  in  compounding  prescriptions.  But  on  this 
particular  occasion  anticipation  proved  too  much 
for  reality,  for  Jack  laughed  to  himself  so  violently 
over  the  fun  about  to  ensue  that  his  hand  shook,  a 
stream  of  water  poured  through  the  hole,  and 
trickled  all  over  the  teacher's  chair.  And,  worse 
still,  Jack  discovered  that  a  two-inch  beam  is  not  a 
safe  place  of  repose  for  the  human  frame  in  moments 
of  profound  agitation,  for  he  lost  his  balance,  tried 
to  save  it  with  one  elbow  and  one  foot,  which  be 
tween  them  dislodged  great  masses  of  plaster  from 
the  laths  and  dropped  it  upon  the  teacher's  desk. 


p.  61. 


EXPERIMENT    IN    GRAVITATION. 


EXPERIMENTS   IN    GRAVITATION.  6l 

Even  then  the  truth  might  not  have  been  suspected, 
had  not  Jack,  frightened  at  the  mischief  he  had 
caused,  lost  all  self-control  and  tumbled  off  the 
beam  and  upon  the  laths.  Crack !  Crack !  went 
several  laths,  a  violent  commotion  was  heard  upon 
the  remainder,  and,  as  the  school  started  to  its  feet 
and  the  teacher  dropped  back  in  terror,  a  boy's  foot 
and  a  section  of  trowser-leg  appeared  for  an  instant 
through  a  hole  in  the  ceiling,  only  to  be  instantly 
withdrawn. 

"  Ah  !  "  snarled  the  exile,  seizing  his  half  brick 
and  ruler,  and  starting  for  the  hall,  "  I  haf  ze  vil 
lain  !  "  The  entire  class  followed,  in  time  to  hear 
a  rustling  sound  and  to  see  the  teacher's  half  brick 
go  up  the  hatchway,  through  which  the  bell  rope 
was  being  rapidly  drawn. 

The  teacher  danced  frantically  about  and  shouted, 

"  Somebody  go  for  the  police — ze  constable,  what 
you  call  him  !  I  would  gif  five  dollare  if  I  had  my 
pistol  viz  me  here.  Somebody  bring  one  little  lad- 
dare — zen  I  go  up  ze  hole  an'  drag  down  ze  diable. 
I  show  you  vat  I  do,  you  bring  me  ze  laddare  !  " 

Nobody  stirred  ;  every  one  preferred  to  remain  as 
speqjtator.  Suddenly  the  teacher's  half  brick  de 
scended,  followed  by  a  nail  keg,  a  dusty  roll  of  dis 
carded  maps,  and  a  piece  of  board. 


62  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  It  is  one  attaque  de  force !  "  exclaimed  the 
teacher,  retiring  precipitately  upon  the  feet  of  lame 
Joey  Wilson,  who  had  squeezed  well  to  the  front. 
"  Ze  rascal  shall  go  to  ze  prison.  Will  nobody  go 
for  ze  constable  ?  "  Zen  I  will  give  ze  alarm  from 
out  ze  window." 

The  exile  put  his  head  out  the  window,  just  in 
time  to  see  Jack,  who  had  thrown  the  bell  rope  over 
the  front  of  the  building,  sliding  down  the  same,  and 
making  dreadful  faces  because  of  the  pain  which 
friction  occasioned  in  his  hands  and  legs.  With  a 
fiendish  yell  the  teacher  threw  the  ruler,  which 
missed  Jack.  Just  as  the  young  man  felt  that  the 
rope  was  no  longer  between  his  knees  yet  the 
ground  not  invitingly  near,  the  teacher  reappeared 
with  an  inkstand  which  he  threw  with  such  ex 
cellent  aim  that  it  struck  Jack  in  the  side.  The 
boy  immediately  loosened  his  hold,  and  dropped 
about  fifteen  feet,  striking  upon  his  side.  In  an 
instant  he  was  upon  his  feet  and  hurrying  home 
ward  without  as  much  hilarity  as  might  have  been 
expected,  for  in  falling  he  had  broken  his  left 
arm. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

"  When  the  devil  was  sick 

The  devil  a  saint  would  be." 

THE  only  consolation  that  Master  Jack  could 
conjure  up,  as  he  carried  his  broken  arm 
home,  was  that  his  father  would  undoubtedly  con 
sider  the  disaster  a  sufficient  punishment  for  the 
offense.  Jack  could  not  at  first  imagine  why  his 
arm  should  indulge  in  such  sudden  and  terrible 
twinges  and  object  so  nervously  to  being  rubbed  or 
held.  The  pain  which  it  experienced  from  the  shak 
ing  consequent  upon  running  caused  Jack  to  sub 
side  into  a  walk  as  soon  as  he  had  assured  himself 
that  he  was  n,ot  followed  ;  even  then  the  pain  gave 
no  indication  of  subsiding.  Suddenly  the  truth 
dawned  upon  the  boy's  mind,  and  between  the 
shock  occasioned  by  the  discovery  and  the  sense  of 
at  least  a  month  of  vacation  to  be  utterly  lost, 
Jack  became  so  weak  and  faint  that  when  he  at 
last  reached  home  he  dropped  upon  the  office  step 
and  his  head  fell  heavily  against  the  door.  The 

63 


64  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

doctor,  who  fortunately  was  at  home,  opened  hastily 
and  exclaimed, 

"  Well,  what's  the  latest?" 

"  Oh,  father,"  gasped  Jack,  "  I've  tumbled,  and 
I'm  afraid  my  arm  is  broken." 

The  doctor  helped  the  boy  into  a  chair,  eliciting 
a  howl  as  he  did  so.  A  short  examination  of  the 
arm  caused  additional  howling,  and  during  the 
quarter  hour  consumed  by  the  operation  of  setting, 
Jack  abandoned  all  preconceived  ideas  of  the  nature 
of  fun.  Finally,  when  the  doctor  carefully  removed 
his  clothing,  put  him  into  bed,  and  told  him  he 
would  have  to  lie  there  for  at  least  a  fortnight, 
Jack  dragged  the  pillow  up  to  his  face  with  his  un 
hurt  arm,  and  moistened  it  most  uncomfortably  with 
tears.  Half  an  hour  later,  when  his  father  had 
broken  the  news  to  his  mother,  who  had  nerves,  and 
the  lady  came  up  to  see  him,  she  found  him  sobbing 
violently. 

"Jack,  Jack,"  she  exclaimed,  "this  will  never  do. 
There  is  always  a  fever  with  arms  broken  above  the 
elbow,  and  if  you  excite  yourself  it  will  come  on 
too  soon,  and  it  may  destroy  your  reason." 

"  I  wish  it  would,"  sobbed  Jack,  "  I'd  a  great  deal 
rather  be  crazy  than  lie  here  in  my  senses  all  through 


THOUGHTS    OF    REFORM.  65 

this  jolly,  awful  month.  I  can't  pick  a  blackberry, 
and  I  can't  have  any  money  for  Christmas,  and  I 
know  Frank  Parker  guesses  one  of  the  new  baits  I 
was  going  to  try  on  the  perch,  and  it'll  be  just  like 
him  to  go  and  catch  every  one  of  them.  It's  just 
horrid." 

"Jack!"  remonstrated  Mrs.  Wittingham,  " can't 
you  think  how  horrid  it  is  for  you  to  go  and  break 
your  arm,  and  make  more  work  for  every  body  in 
the  house?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack,  "  but  you  don't  think  that  makes 
me  feel  any  better,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Then,"  said  Mrs.  Wittingham,  "  you  should  take 
your  suffering  as  a  judgment  from  the  Lord." 

"  He  might  have  put  it  off  until  after  vacation, 
anyhow,"  exclaimed  the  bad  boy,  at  which  Mrs. 
Wittingham  clapped  her  fingers  to  her  ears  and  fled, 
and  informed  her  husband  in  almost  the  same 
breath,  that  the  dreadful  boy  deserved  a  sound 
whipping  even  now,  and  that  nothing  but  the  grace 
of  God  could  ever  make  Jack  what  he  should  be. 

But  after  Jack  had  recovered  from  his  rage,  and 
had  been  surprised  into  taking  a  short  nap,  he  be 
gan  to  view  the  situation  in  about  the  light  which 
his  mother  would  have  liked  him  to  use.  It  cer- 


66  THE    WORST    BOY     IN    TOWN. 

tainly  had  been  great  fun  to  tease  that  French 
teacher — the  thought  of  it  provoked  even  now  a 
merry  chuckle  which  a  twinge  of  the  arm  suddenly 
discouraged — but  it  was  equally  certain  that  the 
teacher  himself  did  not  seem  to  enjoy  it.  As  for 
sliding  down  a  bell  rope,  no  boy  had  ever  done  it 
before,  to  Jack's  knowledge,  but  oh,  how  his  hands 
were  smarting !  The  more  he  thought  of  them  the 
worse  they  burned  ;  he  must  have  something  cool 
ing  put  upon  them,  even  if  he  had  to  confess  how 
he  came  by  them.  Some  one  would  be  sur2  to  tell 
his  father  of  his  exploits  at  the  schoolhouse,  so 
why  shouldn't  he  confess  in  advance  and  get  the 
credit  for  it  ? 

May  be  the  broken  arm  was  a  judgment  upon  him, 
as  his  mother  suggested.  Well,  he  would  admit 
that  he  deserved  it,  though  he  still  doubted  the  ne 
cessity  for  its  infliction  at  this  particular  season  of 
the  year.  He  would  do  his  best  to  learn  by  it,  any 
how — he  certainly  was  going  to  have  time  enough 
in  which  he  could  do  nothing  else.  So  Jack  con 
fessed,  and  had  his  hands  treated  to  a  cooling  lotion. 
The  doctor,  having  previously  heard  the  story  from 
the  vivacious  tongue  of  the  outraged  exile  himself, 
and  having  spent  a  delightful  hour,  partly  retrospec- 


THOUGHTS    OF    REFORM.  / 

tive,  in  laughing  over  the  latest  capers  of  his  son, 
was  in  a  position  to  listen  with  judicial  gravity  and 
to  express  his  horror  at  frequent  intervals  and  in  fit 
ting  terms.  Then  Jack  listened  to  a  long  and  sol 
emn  lecture  which  was  more  wordy  than  pithy,  and 
was  told  that  he  must  avoid  even  exciting  subjects 
of  thought  for  a  fortnight  to  come. 

"Mayn't  Matt  come  to  see  me?"  asked  Jack  in 
faltering  tones. 

"  Only  for  two  or  three  minutes  at  a  time,"  said 
the  doctor  ;  "  even  conversation  will  excite  you." 

"  I  want  to  talk  to  him,"  said  Jack. 

"  Why  can't  you  talk  to  your  mother  and  me  ?  " 
asked  the  doctor. 

It  is  beyond  all  things  astonishing  what  silly 
questions  may  be  asked  by  sensible  men  when  they 
have  forgotten  their  own  boyhood  days,  and  it  is 
not  surprising  that  Jack  could  not  easily  frame  an 
answer  to  the  doctor's  question. 

"  Did  Matt  ever  feed  or  clothe  you  ?  "  asked  the 
doctor. 

Jack  admitted,  with  some  trifling  modifications  of 
the  first  condition,  that  Matt  had  not. 

"  Did  he  ever  give  you  a  home,  or  take  care  of 
you  when  you  were  sick,  or  pay  your  school  bills  ?  " 


68  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"  Then  why  can't  you  care  so  much  for  your 
mother  and  me  as  you  do  for  him?"  continued  the 
doctor. 

Jack  was  silent. 

"  It's  because  you're  an  ungrateful  young  scamp," 
exclaimed  the  doctor  with  considerable  temper,  as  • 
he  arose  and  left  the  room. 

"  Father,"  shouted  Jack,  "  it  isn't !  Please  come 
back?" 

The  doctor,  considerably  startled  by  such  an  ex 
hibition  of  feeling,  hastily  returned. 

"  Father,"  said  Jack,  turning  his  head  in  spite  of 
considerable  pain  which  the  motion,  inflicted  upon 
,his  arm,  "  it's  because — because  Matt's  a  boy." 

"  Umph  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "  that  is  a  reason 
— a  wonderful  reason.  I  should  think  you  would 
want  to  have  it  patented,  or  copyrighted,  or  some 
thing." 

The  doctor  retired,  pondering  upon  human  de 
pravity  as  exemplified  by  ingratitude,  and  Jack, 
having  plenty  of  time,  began  to  devise  some  way  of 
shaming  his  father  out  of  so  unjust  an  idea  as  that 
his  boy  was  ungrateful.  When  he  became  a  man 
and  a  steamboat  captain  he  would  bring  all  the  doc- 


THOUGHTS   OF    REFORM.  69 

tor's  medicines  free  of  charge — perhaps  that 
wouldn't  heap  coals  of  fire  upon  the  old  gentleman's 
head — oh,  no!  Indeed,  he  was  not  sure  but  he 
might  one  day  become  a  missionary — missionaries 
must  have  jolly  times  on  tropical  islands  where  they 
can  always  go  about  in  their  shirt  sleeves,  have  for 
nothing  all  the  bananas  they  can  eat,  and  shoot 
lions,  and  birds  of  paradise,  and  things,  right  from 
their  own  doors.  Perhaps  when  he  sent  his  father 
a  tiger-skin  rug,  and  his  mother  a  whole  lot  of  ostrich 
plumes,  and  a  monkey,  and  some  cunning  heathen 
gods  to  put  on  her  parlor  mantel,  his  father  would 
talk  about  ingratitude  then,  but  Jack  rather  guessed 
not !  Then  when  his  mother  came  in  with  a  plate 
of  water-toast,  Jack  surprised  her  by  remarking. 

"  Mother,  when  marble  time  cornes,  I'll  give  you 
all  the  buttons  I  win." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Jack?"  said  the  lady. 

"  Why,  we  play  marbles  for  buttons  sometimes, 
and  there's  only  two  or  three  boys  in  town  that  can 
beat  me,  and  I  never  play  with  them." 

"  Where  do  they  get  the  buttons  to  bet?"  asked 
Mrs.  Wittingham,  "  and,"  she  continued,  a  dire  sus 
picion  coming  suddenly  to  mind,  "  where  do  you  get 
them  ?  " 


/O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  I — I  don't  know,"  said  Jack  feebly,  at  which 
answer  his  mother  sniffed  alarmingly,  and  left  Jack 
to  feel  that  grown  folks  were  most  shamefully 
suspicious,  and  that  they  couldn't  appreciate  grati 
tude  when  it  was  offered  them. 

Two  or  three  days  later  the  fever  set  in,  and 
Jack  dreamed  for  days  of  Polar  explorations,  where 
he  could  go  swimming  in  cooling  seas  and  sun  him 
self  dry  on  iridescent  icebergs.  He  planned  a 
wonderful  voyage  of  discovery  to  the  North  Pole, 
and  it  was  of  inestimable  comfort  to  him  to  report 
progress  to  Matt,  in  the  five  minutes  which  that 
youth  was  allowed  daily  at  the  sufferer's  bedside. 
The  tenor  of  his  thoughts  was  daily  interrupted  by 
his  mother,  who  considered  the  occasion  demanded 
Bible  reading  instead  of  personal  sympathy  for  the 
youth,  who  could  not  leave  his  bed  to  attend  family 
prayers,  and  she  so  frequently  selected  passages 
descriptive  of  a  locality  the  temperature  of  which 
is  the  reverse  of  polar,  that  Jack  had  to  do  a  great 
deal  of  mental  rambling  to  get  his  thoughts  in 
proper  trim  again. 

At  last  the  fever  subsided  leaving  Jack  extremely 
weak  in  body,  but  of  a  temper  simply  angelic.  He 
prefaced  every  request  with  "  please,"  he  never  for- 


THOUGHTS   OF    REFORM.  /I 

got  to  say  "  thank  you,"  and  he  sang  little  hymns 
softly  to  himself.  Mrs.  Wittingham  was  delighted 
beyond  measure,  and  when  she  suggested  that  the 
minister  might  like  to  call,  and  Jack  replied  that  it 
would  be  very  nice  to  have  a  chat  with  that  gentle 
man,  the  lady  became  considerably  alarmed  on  the 
subject  of  the  boy's  recovery.  Mr.  Daybright,  the 
minister,  was  really  a  very  pleasant  man,  as  Jack 
discovered,  now  that  he  had  time  to  "  take  his 
measure,"  as  he  himself  expressed  it,  and  after  Mr. 
Daybright  had  talked  with  him  for  half  an  hour,  and 
prayed  with  him,  and  departed,  Jack  did  not  know 
but  he  might  finally  conclude  to  be  a  minister  him 
self,  and  have  cake  and  cider  offered  him  in  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  when  he  called  upon  boys 
with  broken  arms. 

Then  Jack's  Sunday-school  teacher  called,  and 
suggested  that  the  class  should  come  in  a  body,  on 
the  following  Sunday,  and  Jack  accepted  the  sug 
gestion  with  fervor,  and  the  class  came,  and  stood 
decorously  in  a  row,  and  sang  several  hymns,  and 
looked  as  sober  as  if  fish-lines  and  peg-tops  and  balls 
and  birds'  nests  and  orchards  and  crooked  pins  and 
truancy  did  not  exist  anywhere  nearer  than  the 
planet  Neptune.  Then  the  teacher  gave  Jack  a 


72  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

book  from  the  Sunday-school  library,  which  book  he 
had  selected  with  Jack's  particular  condition  of 
mind  in  view,  and  although  it  proved  to  be  the 
story  of  a  dreadfully  priggish  but  very  pious  little 
London  footman,  whose  nature,  tastes,  temptations 
and  general  environment  were  utterly  unlike  Jack's, 
the  boy  labored  manfully  through  it,  and  endeavor 
ed  to  persuade  himself  that  he  enjoyed  it. 

In  fact,  so  thorough  an  overhauling  did  Jack's 
conscience  receive  that  he  even  felt  himself  called 
upon  to  confess  to  the  doctor  his  affair  with  Hoc- 
camine's  whiskey,  but  although  the  doctor  had 
heard  the  story  a  month  before  from  the  lips  of 
Matt's  father,  he  had  not  yet  reached  that  mental 
balance  which  would  enable  him  to  reprove  the  boy 
and  still  leave  him  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the 
vileness  of  the  rum  traffic,  so  the  doctor  said  only 
"  Well,"  in  a  very  grave  way,  and  made  an  excuse 
to  leave  the  sick  chamber. 

A  few  days  later  Jack  was  allowed  to  sit  under 
the  great  trees  in  front  of  the  house,  and  as  he  was 
positively  forbidden  to  leave  the  grounds,  to  run,  or 
to  make  any  exertion  which  might  disturb  the  arm, 
which  he  carried  in  a  sling,  he  fell  to  noting  the 
habits  of  birds  with  their  young,  until  he  became  so 


THOUGHTS    OF    REFORM.  73 

affected  that  he  silently  vowed  never  to  rob  a  nest 
again.  He  found  in  the  flowers  and  the  shrubbery 
many  a  charm  which  he  had  never  suspected  when 
weeding  them  ;  he  contemplated  cloud  pictures  un 
til  an  overwhelming  sense  of  the  beautiful  com 
pelled  him  to  decide  upon  an  artistic  career,  and  he 
watched  every  motion  of  whatever  laborer  happen 
ed  to  be  in  sight  until  he  determined  that  he  never 
again  would  throw  a  chip  or  anything  else  at  a  la 
boring  man,  no  matter  how  funny  he  might  look 
or  how  fluently  he  could  swear  when  he  espied  his 
tormentor. 

Finally,  to  the  delight  of  his  parents  and  many 
other  people  who  were  responsible  for  boys,  but  to 
the  general  depression  of  the  boys  themselves,  it 
became  known  that  Jack  had  signified  his  intention 
of  joining  the  church.  Mr.  Daybright  admitted 
that  in  years  Jack  was  rather  young  to  take  such  a 
step,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  had  a  far  abler 
mind,  and — even  although  he  was  called  the  worst 
boy  in  town — a  cleaner  record  than  half  the  adults 
who  came  into  the  fold.  Mr.  Daybright  had  ex 
plained  to  him,  as  men  often  will  to  boys  other  than 
their  own,  that  boys  need  not  stop  being  boys  and 
being  happy  just  because  they  become  good,  so 


7/f  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

there  was  considerable  disappointment  experienced 
by  such  youths  as  shrewdly  imagined  that  Jack's 
change  of  heart  would  result  in  his  large  and  varied 
assortment  of  knives,  lines,  marbles,  skates,  etc., 
being  thrown  upon  the  market  at  reduced  prices. 
Jack  explained,  with  considerable  vigor,  that  be 
cause  he  was  going  to  give  up  mischief  it  did  not 
necessarily  follow  that  he  should  become  a  muff,  or 
a  soft  head,  or  a  twiddler,  or  an  apron  string,  or  a 
foo-foo,  or  a  stick-in-the-mud,  or  a  dummy,  or  any 
other  of  a  dozen  or  two  unpopular  varieties  of  boy 
which  he  mentioned,  but  that  he  proposed  to  "keep 
his  shirt  on,"  remain  "  forked  end  down,"  retain 
possession  of  his  eye-teeth,  and  have  as  good  a  time 
as  anybody  else  could  who  didn't  have  to  suffer  for 
it  afterward.  And  the  unregenerate  boys  went 
away  slowly  and  without  the  great  possessions  which 
they  had  expected  to  carry  with  them,  while  one  of 
them  who  was  generous  as  well  as  shrewd  was  heard 
to  say  that  bully  old  Jack  Wittingham  wasn't  going 
to  flunk  out  after  all,  and  that  a  fellow  could  do 
many  a  worse  thing  than  to  join  the  church. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"  When  the  devil  was  well, 
The  devil  a  saint  was  he." 

JACK  sat,  one  evening,  on  a  horse-block  just  out 
side  the  front  gate,  contemplating  the  evening 
star  and  such  of  its  companions  as  were  putting  in 
their  respective  appearances.  He  was  attired  rather 
more  carefully  than  was  considered  necessary  for  a 
Doveton  boy  on  any  day  but  Sunday,  and  his  coun 
tenance  was  in  keeping  with  his  garb,  while  his  hair 
was  brushed  to  a  degree  of  smoothness  almost 
dandyish.  Suddenly  one-half  of  the  Pinkshaw  twins 
approached  and  asked  Jack  if  he  didn't  feel  like 
going  that  night  to  a  meeting  to  be  held  by  the 
German  Methodists,  who  were  holding  a  series  of 
week-day  evening  services. 

"  I  can't,"  said  Jack.  "  We're  expecting — expect 
ing  a  visitor,  and  I  must  stay  home  to  meet  him." 

"That's  too  bad,"  said  the  half  of  the  Pinkshaw 
twins,  scraping  the  dust  into  a  heap  with  his  bare 
feet,  "  for  they've  got  old  Vater  Offenstein,  all  the 

75 


76  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

way  from  New  Munich,  to  do  the  exhorting,  and 
they  expect  a  great  time." 

"  They  are  real  good  people,  those  German  Metho 
dists  are,"  said  Jack,  "  but  you'll  have  to  excuse 
me  to-night.  Get  some  other  fellow  to  go  with 
you." 

"  I  can't,"  explained  young  Pinkshaw.  "  Nearly 
all  the  boys  are  going  to  a  party  at  Billy  Barker's 
sister's,  but  Billy  and  I  don't  speak  since  he  traded 
me  a  dog  that  was  given  to  fits,  so  I'm  not  going." 

Jack  sympathized  with  the  Pinkshaw  twin  in  his 
loneliness  ;  besides,  he  did  not  know  but  some  feel 
ing  stronger  than  mere  curiosity  was  drawing  the  boy 
toward  the  church  ;  certainly  he,  Jack,  would  never 
have  divulged  a  religious  feeling  in  any  but  a  round 
about  way.  The  church  was  but  a  five  minutes' 
walk,  and  he  could  excuse  himself  and  come  away 
after  the  Pinkshaw  twin  became  fairly  interested. 
So  he  accompanied  the  boy,  their  direction  being 
toward  the  sound  of  some  very  spirited  singing, 
which  could  be  distinctly  heard  above  all  other 
evening  sounds.  Arrived  at  the  little  church,  Jack 
found  that  his  companion  would  not  have  lacked 
congenial  society  even  had  he  come  alone,  for  in 
the  back  seats  were  already  congregated  several 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  77 

boys  of  respectable  parentage,  and  a  loafer  or  two 
besides,  as  well  as  half  a  dozen  adults  who  fre 
quently  occupied  back  seats  in  churches.  Jack 
would  have  retired  at  once,  but  the  famous  Vater 
Offcnstein  had  just  ascended  the  pulpit,  removed 
his  coat,  laid  it  across  the  desk  and  opened  the 
Bible,  and  Jack,  who  was  just  then  full  of  sympathy 
with  all  believers  of  the  Word,  was  anxious  to  ob 
serve  the  old  man's  method. 

The  service  began  with  an  earnest  prayer,  to 
which  responses  were  offered  from  most  of  the 
benches  near  the  altar.  Then  a  rich  old  German 
choral  was  finely  rendered,  after  which  Vater  Of- 
fenstein  proceeded  to  business.  Jack  understood  a 
little  of  the  exhortation,  having  studied  German, 
and  he  ventured  a  silent  prayer  that  its  whole 
meaning  might  be  taken  in  by  Sam  Mugley,  the 
sadler  shop  apprentice,  who  understood  German 
and  all  the  ways  of  the  evil  one  beside.  The  dis 
course  was  apparently  a  powerful  one,  for  "  Amen  !" 
"  Gott  macht  es !"  "  Liebes  Herr  und  Heiland  !" 
and  various  other  responses  escaped  frequently  from 
the  faithful.  Old  Nokkerman,  man-of-all-work  at 
Matt  Bolton's  father's  store,  seemed  particularly 
excited  ;  he  waved  to  and  fro  on  his  seat,  his  shock 


73  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

of  long  uncombed  hair  with  a  bald  spot  in  its  cen 
tre  making  him  particularly  noticeable.  The  old 
man's  cranium  did  not,  however,  attract  attention 
only  from  admirers  of  the  picturesque,  for  sud 
denly  a  small  but  rapid  ball  of  soft-chewed  paper 
made  a  fair  bull's  eye  on  the  circle  of  bare  scalp, 
anil  flattened  itself  over  considerable  space.  Old 
Nokkerman  turned  speedily  to  perceive  only  sev 
eral  rows  of  solemn-faced  unregenerates,  Jack's 
eye  being  the  only  one  he  could  catch,  so  he  shook 
his  fist  warningly  at  the  general  line  of  occupants 
of  the  back  seats,  and  then  resumed  his  blissful 
manifestations  as  quickly  as  if  the  religious  ecstacy 
were  a  mere  habit  which  could  be  assumed  or  laid 
aside  at  will.  A  hurried  interchange  of  views  took 
place  in  a  whisper  on  the  furthest  seat  back,  with 
the  result  that  Sam  Mugley,  the  sadler  shop  ap 
prentice,  slyly  drew  a  small  tin  putty-blower  from 
an  inner  breast  pocket,  and  aimed  a  ball  of  putty  at 
old  Nokkerman's  cranial  target.  The  shot  missed 
its  mark,  being  low  and  to  one  side,  and  struck 
Fritz  Shantz  a  smart  blow  in  the  back  of  his  neck. 
As  Shantz  was  a  butcher  as  well  as  a  devout  Meth 
odist,  he  rose  instantly  with  blood  in  his  eye,  and 
started  for  the  back  of  the  church,  his  mien  being 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  79 

so  terrible  that  one  of  the  more  cautious  of  the 
loafers  hurried  out  of  church  and  took  to  his  heels, 
thus  diverting  suspicion  from  the  guilty  person,  and 
laying  up  for  himself  a  day  of  wrath  which  Shantz 
determined  should  not  be  long  postponed. 

Jack  was  really  in  sympathy  with  the  worship 
pers,  and  was  also  indignant,  with  them,  at  the  god 
less  disturbers  of  the  excellent  tone  of  the  meeting, 
but  it  was  out  of  the  power  of  any  healthy  boy  with 
a  keen  sense  of  the  ridiculous  to  avoid  a  little 
laughter  at  the  peculiar  ways  of  old  Nokkerman 
and  the  butcher  under  their  annoyances.  And  a 
little  laughter  in  a  boy  of  fourteen  is  quite  likely 
to  be  something  like  the  beginning  of  strife ;  it  led 
to  more  and  yet  more,  until  Jack  was  too  full  to 
restrain  his  merriment,  and  it  bubbled  out  of  his 
eyes  and  all  over  his  face.  The  brethren  knew  by 
experience  that  when  disturbances  began  so»  early 
in  the  evening,  the  occasion  demanded  sharp  eyes 
and  prompt  action,  so  several  of  the  occupants  of 
the  "  Amen  "  seats  kept  a  pretty  steady  sidelong 
glance  at  the  back  benches,  while  one  brother 
walked  quietly  out  of  church  and  notified  a  con 
stable  that  trouble  was  expected. 

Meanwhile,  Vater  Offenstein   continued    his  ex- 


SO  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

hortations,  alternating  between  heavenly  love  and 
the  brimstone  of  the  unpopular  extreme  of  the  de 
batable  land,  and  the  excitable  among  the  brethren 
and  sisters  responded  more  and  more  fervently,  and 
Gottlieb  Wiffterschneck  sprang  to  his  feet  and 
jumped  up  and  down  shouting,  "  Ach,  Herr  Jesu  ! " 
when  the  horse  doctor's  boy,  who  had  been  biding 
his  time  outside  the  church  just  under  one  of  the 
windows,  carefully  trained  a  huge  syringe  to  bear 
upon  the  altar,  and  deluged  Vater  Offenstein's  face 
with  water,  which,  like  the  precious  oil  upon  the 
head  of  Aaron,  ran  down  upon  his  beard  and  gar 
ments,  and  shed  considerable  upon  the  Holy  Book 
beside.  This  was  too  much  for  even  good  Vater 
Offenstein,  so  instead  of  repeating  the  sublime 
prayer  of  the  dying  Stephen  he  picked  up  a  small 
wooden  bench  upon  which  short  preachers  usually 
knelt  in  the  pulpit,  and  hurled  it  at  the  window, 
missing  the  open  space  and  sending  it  through  two 
panes  of  glass  and  the  intervening  sash.  This  pro 
voked  a  laugh  even  from  one  or  two  of  the  faith 
ful,  so  the  occupants  of  the  back  benches  released 
themselves  from  all  restraint,  and  laughed  aloud  in 
a  most  uns-eemly  manner,  while  Vater  Offenstein 
wiped  his  face  and  hair  with  his  coat,  and  quoted 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  8 1 

appropriate  passages  of  Scripture  most  dreadfully 
between  his  teeth,  translating  some  of  them  into 
English  for  the  benefit  of  the  race  from  which 
alone  the  annoyances  of  the  brethren  proceeded. 
A  general  quiet  being  thereby  induced,  the  exhor 
tation  was  resumed  for  a  short  time,  and  ended  in 
an  invitation  to  the  penitent  to  go  forward  to  the 
altar  and  be  prayed  for. 

While  the  brethren  sang  a  hymn,  several  sinners 
passed  up  the  narrow  aisle  and  Jack  turned  his 
head  with  the  hope  that  he  might  see  Sam  Mugley, 
the  saddler  shop  apprentice,  join  the  band,  but  the 
wicked  Sam  was  just  in  the  act  of  blowing  a  second 
putty-ball,  and  Jack's  head  coming  suddenly  in 
range  as  it  turned,  the  ball  struck  Jack  fairly  in  one 
eye,  causing  the  boy  to  emit  a  howl  of  anguish.  In 
an  instant  Shantz  the  butcher  had  collared  Jack 
and  shaken  him  soundly,  exclaiming, 

"  Dat  iss  vat  a  gute  Amerigan  boy  iss,  iss  it  ? 

"Somebody  hit  me  in  the  eye  with  something," 
screamed  Jack,  "and  it  hurts  awfully.  Oh!  " 

"  Den  dat  iss  too  bad,"  said  Shantz.  "  Dell  me 
who  it  vass  and  I  will  break  effery  bone  in  hiss 
body." 

But  Jack  could  not  tell,  and  several  sympathizing 


82  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

brethren  gathered  about  him  and  suggested  that  he 
should  take  a  seat  farther  forward,  and  be  where 
the  bad  boys  could  not  annoy  him.  Although  this 
suggestion,  thanks  to  the  mysterious  ways  of  the 
unfathomable  German  mind,  was  equivalent  to  ask 
ing  him  to  put  himself  more  directly  under  fire, 
Jack  gladly  availed  himself  of  it,  so  as  to  remove 
himself  from  an  environment  which  was  full  of 
cause  for  suspicion. 

By  this  time  the  assemblage  was  on  its  knees, 
listening  to  a  prayer  by  Petrus  von  Schlenker. 
Petrus'  prayer  was  very  earnest,  but  it  was  also 
long  ;  it  was  delivered  with  such  rapidity  that  Jack 
could  not  understand  a  word  of  it,  so  the  exercise 
became  rather  monotonous  to  him,  and  he  opened 
his  eyes  and  looked  about.  Under  the  single  slat 
which  formed  the  back  of  the  bench,  and  directly 
in  front  of  him,  Jack  beheld  the  broad  and  well- 
patched  trowsers-seat  of  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel, 
and  Satan,  who  long  ago  became  noted  for  putting 
in  an  appearance  when  the  Sons  of  God  were  in 
council  (See  Job,  Chap.  I),  suggested  to  Jack  that 
through  such  a  mass  of  patches  a  bent  pin  might 
work  its  way  for  quite  a  distance  without  doing  any 
serious  damage  to  the  wearer.  Jack  broke  an  an- 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  83 

ticipatory  laugh  square  in  two,  and  closed  his  eyes 
in  prayer  to  be  delivered  from  temptation,  but 
when  he  opened  his  eyes  again  there  were  the 
patches,  apparently  a  little  more  inviting  than  be 
fore.  Jack  did  not  exactly  wish  that  some  good 
brother  on  the  bench  behind  Nuderkopf  Trinkel- 
vspiel  would  think  to  crook  a  pin  and  place  it  on 
Nuderkopf's  bench  just  as  the  latter  arose  to  take 
his  seat,  but  he  wished,  in  case  anyone  should  be 
prompted  to  do  such  a  thing,  that  he,  Jack,  might 
have  his  head  turned  just  then  so  as  to  observe  the 
result  of  the  operation.  And  still  Petrus  von 
Schlenker's  prayer  went  on,  and  Jack's  eyes  re 
mained  open,  and  the  boy  was  glad  that  he  did  not 
occupy  the  seat  behind  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel,  lest 
he  might  be  tempted.  Suddenly  there  came  to 
Jack  something  which  would  have  been  called  an 
inspiration  had  its  tendency  been  different.  He  re 
membered  that  he  had  a  pin  in  the  lapel  of  his  own 
jacket,  and  it  occurred  to  him  that  this  pin  might 
be  bent  so  as  to  have  a  reliable  base,  and  the  point 
might  be  inserted  in  the  seat  of  Nuderkopf  Trinkel- 
spiel's  trowsers,  where  it  would  be  in  position  to 
attend  to  business  as  soon  as  the  worshippers  re 
sumed  a  sitting  posture.  Jack  promptly  whispered 


84  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

to  himself  "Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan,"  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word  by  removing  the  pin  from 
the  coat  and  dropping  it  on  the  floor.  But  there 
it  was  more  tempting  than  it  had  been  before  ;  it 
lay  there,  bright,  thick  and  strong,  demanding  that 
Jack  should  look  at  it.  It  was  no  common,  soft  pin, 
to  collapse  at  the  first  sign  of  pressure,  but  tough 
enough  to  serve  as  a  nail,  if  occasion  required. 
Jack  was  really  curious  to  know  if  so  unprece 
dented  an  application  of  a  pin  could  be  successful, 
because,  if  he  became  a  preacher,  as  he  instantly 
resolved  he  would,  he  might  some  time  preach  in 
German  in  that  very  church,  and  then  if  such  a 
trick  were  served  upon  any  one,  he  would  be  able 
to  detect  the  guilty  person.  Besides,  the  patch 
seemed  to  repose  upon  other  patches,  and  probably 
the  pin  point  could  not  more  than  pierce  the  cloth 
itself,  where  it  would  be  when  Nuderkopf  Trinkel- 
spiel  knelt  at  the  next  prayer,  and  it  would  demon 
strate  what  would  be  the  effect  of  a  similar  opera 
tion  upon  a  thinner  pair  of  trowsers. 

Jack  picked  up  the  pin  and  bent  it  with  the  great 
est  care,  though  it  would  have  seemed  to  an  exact 
scientist  that  the  upright  portion  was  unnecessarily 
long  for  a  purpose  merely  experimental.  He  in- 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  85 

sertcd  it  with  the  greatest  nicety  between  the  coarse 
threads  of  the  homespun  patch,  and  though  he  ad- 
nitted  that  Petrus  von  Schlenker  was  considered  a 
very  good  man,  he  determined  that  his  prayer  was 
too  long  to  be  efficacious.  Suddenly  the  voluble 
Petrus  said  "  Amen,"  the  audience  arose,  Jack's 
heart  bounced  into  his  mouth,  Nuderkopf  Trinkel- 
spiel  began  to  sit  down,  the  brethren  started  the 
noble  choral  beginning 

' '  Groser  Gott  wir  loben  dich  ; 
Herr,  wir  preisen  deiner  starke," 

when  suddenly  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel  emitted  a 
most  appalling  yell,  and  followed  it  up  with  so  many 
others  of  a  similar  character,  that  the  song  sank  to  a 
faltering  termination,  and  the  singers  crowded 
around  their  disturber,  scarcely  knowing  whether  to 
attribute  the  disturbance  to  pain  or  to  grace.  Several 
minutes  elapsed  before  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel 
sought  the  cause  of  his  agony,  but  when  at  length 
he  extracted  the  pin  from  the  seat  of  his  trowsers 
and  held  it  aloft  in  explanation,  no  one  failed  to 
comprehend  the  cause  of  his  agitation.  Then  aston 
ishment  gave  place  to  mystery,  for  it  passed  conject 
ure  how  the  pin  could  even  have  got  upon  the  bench, 
with  several  reliable  brethren  just  behind  Nuderkopf 


86  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

and  one  at  either  side  of  him.  During  the  general 
arising,  Jack  considered  it  safer  to  start  homeward 
to  see  the  company  that  had  been  expected  early  in 
the  evening,  but  he  lingered  outside  the  window 
just  a  moment,  to  see  the  excitement  subside,  and 
great  was  his  mirth  as  he  beheld  the  wondering  faces 
of  the  honest  Germans.  Here  he  was  joined  by  the 
Pinkshaw  twin  and  two  or  three  other  boys,  but  just 
then  Vater  Offenstein  reminded  the  congregation 
that  time  was  rapidly  bearing  them  on  to  eternity, 
so  the  brethren  resumed  their  seats,  and  Jack  was 
going  to  start  for  home  when  the  Pinkshaw  twin 
asked,  perhaps  forgetting  Jack's  new  professions, 

"  What  next  ?  " 

Lazy  George  Crayton  remarked  that  he  had 
brought  some  torpedoes  which  he  had  saved  Over 
from  the  fourth  of  July,  but  none  of  them  had  ex 
ploded  when  he  threw  them,  perhaps  because  in  the 
church  he  could  not  get  good  elbow-room  when  he 
threw. 

Jack  had  determined  not  to  make  any  more  trou 
ble,  but  if  there  was  anything  which  he  despised 
above  all  others,  it  was  a  person  who  could  never 
think  of  but  one  way  to  do  a  thing.  So  he  re 
proached  George  Crayton  with  being  a  dunderhead, 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  8/ 

and  George  replied  that  if  somebody  was  smarter 
than  somebody  else,  perhaps  somebody  would  have 
the  kindness  to  show  how.  So  Jack  thought  care 
fully  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then  asked  if  anyone 
had  an  old  letter  in  his  pocket.  Nobody  answered 
in  the  affirmative,  but  as  Jack  said  that  any  stout 
sheet  of  paper  a  foot  long  would  do,  a  boy  who  lived 
near  by  sped  homeward,  and  soon  returned  with  a 
sheet  of  foolscap.  Jack  rolled  this  into  a  tube,  put 
several  torpedoes  into  it,  put  his  lips  to  one  end  by 
way  of  illustration,  and  remarked 
"  There !  " 

"  I'll  bet  you  can't  blow  them  hard  enough  to 
snap,"  whispered  the  lazy  George  in  reply. 

Such  an  aspersion  of  the  power  of  his  lungs  was 
too  much  for  Jack's  principles,  so  he  peered  cau 
tiously  about  the  church  for  an  appropriate  mark. 
Vater  Offenstein  was  the  most  prominent  and 
tempting  one  in  sight,  but  him  Jack  regarded  almost 
as  the  Lord's  anointed.  On  either  side  of  the  pul 
pit,  however,  were  large  oil  lamps,  and  inviting 
attention  to  the  one  which  was  nearest,  Jack  took 
deliberate  aim  and  blew  a  mighty  blast.  He  missed 
the  lamp,  but  the  wall  behind  the  pulpit  was  hard 
enough  to  stop  any  small  projectile,  and  against 


00  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

this  the  torpedoes  crashed  almost  as  a  single  one, 
and  caused  Vater  Offenstein  to  jump  nearly  across 
the  pulpit.  Half  a  dozen  of  the  faithful  hurried  out 
of  doors,  and  after  them,  to  see  the  fun,  dashed  all 
the  occupants  of  the  back  seats,  while  from  some 
unknown  hiding  place  sprang  the  constable.  Away 
flew  the  boys,  all  in  the  same  direction,  and  after 
them  went  the  constable,  the  brethren  and  the 
whole  body  of  the  scoffers.  Jack  and  the  Pinkshaw 
twin  easily  got  away  from  their  pursuers  and  found 
friendly  cover  in  the  darkness,  but  a  confused  sound 
of  harsh  voices,  dominated  by  a  loud  wail,  indicated 
that  lazy  George  Crayton  had  been  caught. 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh,"  exclaimed  Jack  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"isn't  it  too  dreadful?" 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  Pinkshaw  twin,  reassur 
ingly,  "  they  haven't  got  us." 

"They  will  get  us,  though,"  said  Jack.  "That 
George  Crayton  will  tell  on  us — he's  an  awful  coward 
when  he  gets  cornered.  What  shall  I  do?" 

"  Lick  him,"  suggested  the  Pinkshaw  twin  ;  "lick 
him  until  he'll  be  afraid  to  say  his  soul's  his  own  the 
next  time  he  gets  into  a  scrape." 

"That  isn't  it,"  said  Jack.  "The  thing  will  get 
all  over  town,  and  all  this  time  I  ought  to  have  been 


IN    TROUBLE    AGAIN.  89 

at  home  to  see  Mr.  Daybright,  who  was  to  come  to 
our  house  to-night  for  the  express  purpose  of  exam 
ining  me  on  my  evidences  !  " 

The  Pinkshaw  twin  had  nothing  to  say  in  reply 
to  this  information,  and  Jack  sneaked  home  and 
hung  about  the  doorway  until  he  assured  himself 
that  Mr.  Daybright  had  gone ;  then  he  made  some 
lame  excuse  for  his  absence  and  retired  to  a  very 
uneasy  pillow. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE. 

ON  the  next  morning  there  was  a  marked  scar 
city  of  boys  in  places  where,  at  ordinary 
times,  boys  most  did  congregate.  The  scamps  who 
had  scrambled  about  the  edge  of  sacrilege  on  the 
preceding  night,  kept  themselves  carefully  secluded 
from  the  general  gaze,  while  other  mischievous  boys, 
having  learned  by  sad  experience  that  suspicion,  like 
lightning,  is  much  given  to  striking  at  objects  that 
do  not  merit  any  such  attention,  devoted  them 
selves  industriously  to  home  affairs,  or  went  upon 
t  solitary  journeys  into  the  suburbs. 

And  these  precautionary  measures  proved  to  be 
not  without  sense,  for  at  a  tolerably  early  hour  the 
Post  Office,  which  was  also  the  office  of  the  most 
popular  of  the  two  local  justices  of  the  peace,  was 
approached  by  a  strong  delegation  from  -the  out 
raged  Society  of  German  Methodists.  First  came 
the  renowned  Vater  Offenstein,  supported  by  the 

9o 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  9! 

Reverend  Schnabel  Mauterbach,  pastor  of  the 
church.  Vater  Offenstein  had  not  been  able  to 
keep  his  hair  and  clothing  wet  during  the  hot  Au 
gust  night,  but  the  water  thrown  from  the  syringe 
had  not  been  very  clean,  so  there  were  great  stains 
upon  the  cotton  shirt  which  its  wearer  would  swear 
had  been  put  on  clean  on  the  day  of  the  service.  The 
pastor  bore  the  soiled  and  still  damp  copy  of  the 
Holy  Book.  Then  came  old  Nokkerman,  his  hair  care 
fully  combed  and  soaped  down,  so  that  the  justice 
might  plainly  see  the  bald  spot  which  had  been  used 
as  a  target.  Beside  old  Nokkerman  walked  Shantz 
the  butcher,  with  his  coat  off,  so  that  he  might  dis 
play  the  great  red  spot  where  the  putty-ball  had 
struck  him.  After  them  walked  Petrus  von  Schlen- 
ker,  to  offer  an  affidavit  that  he  had  prayed  during 
the  service,  though  anyone  who  knew  the  gifts  of 
the  tongue  of  Petrus  would  have  accepted  a  mere 
statement  on  that  point  as  conclusive.  Beside  Petrus 
waddled  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel,  jealously  guarding 
in  an  empty  paint  can  the  bent  pin  which  had  caused 
him  to  disturb  the  meeting ;  he  also  bore,  in  their 
normal  position,  the  well-patched  trowsers  through 
which  the  point  of  the  pin  had  found  its  way. 
Then  came  the  sexton  of  the  church,  carrying 


92  THE    WORST  COY    IN    TOWN. 

under  one  arm  the  bench  which  Vater  Offenstein 
had  hurled  at  Satan's  representative  ;  in  another 
hand  he  carried  the  broken  glass  and  sash  wrapped 
in  two  thicknesses  of  newspaper,  and  in  his  pocket 
was  a  match-box  containing  the  papers  and  such 
other  fragments  as  could  be  collected  of  the  of 
fending  torpedoes.  A  number  of  witnesses  fol 
lowed,  so  that  the  postmaster-justice's  little  office 
was  completely  filled.  Then  the  pastor  announced 
that  the  party  had  called  to  make  and  substantiate 
a  complaint,  and  various  statements  were  volun 
teered  before  the  justice  could  impress  the  assem 
blage  with  the  necessity  for  administering  oaths. 
Vater  Offenstein,  immediately  upon  being  sworn, 
opened  his  coat,  displayed  his  soiled  shirt,  and  im 
pressively  held  the  Good  Book  aloft,  opened  at  its 
stained,  wet  pages.  Shantz  the  butcher  delivered 
his  own  sworn  statement  with  his  face  to  the  wall, 
the  impressiveness  of  the  proceeding  being  some 
what  abated  by  his  completely  covering  with  his 
immense  forefinger  the  red  spot  on  the  back  of  his 
neck  ;  old  Nokkerman  bent  nearly  double  so  as  to 
display  his  baldness  as  he  talked  ;  Petrus  von 
Schlenker  talked  volubly  to  no  purpose  until  cut 
short  by  the  justice,  and  Nuderkopf  Trinkclspiel, 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  93 

trying  at  the  same  time  to  hold  aloft  the  torturing 
pin,  look  the  justice  impressively  in  the  eye,  and 
yet  display  the  seat  of  offending  beneath  his  up 
raised  coat-tail,  presented  a  figure  which  utterly  de 
stroyed  judicial  gravity.  Then  the  sexton  laid 
upon  the  table  the  little  bench  which  Vater  Offen- 
stein  had  cast  from  the  pulpit,  and  carefully  un 
rolled  the  broken  glass  and  sash,  and  brought  up 
from  the  depth  of  his  pocket  the  little  but  posi 
tive  proof  in  the  shape  of  fragments  of  torpedoes. 
Then  the  constable  brought  in  lazy  George  Cray- 
ton,  who  had  spent  the  night  in  the  town  jail,  and 
who  looked  as  pallid  and  guilty  as  if  he  had  to 
answer  for  the  crime  of  murdering  a  whole  fam- 
ily. 

George  did  not  waive  an  examination  ;  on  the 
contrary,  he  had  such  a  passion  for  confession  that 
he  included,  in  his  list  of  accomplices,  the  name  of 
every  boy  in  town  against  whom  he  had  any  grudge 
whatever,  and  it  was  not  until  after  the  examination 
that  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  personally  had  done 
nothing  whatever  to  disturb  the  meeting.  Then 
George's  father  gave  bonds  that  his  son  should  keep 
the  peace,  after  which  he  led  the  youth  home  to  the 
pain  which  follows  discipline.  Shantz  the  butcher 


94  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

turned  up  his  shirt  collar,  the  pastor  and  Vater 
Offenstein  departed  with  the  sacred  Book,  the  sex 
ton  carried  the  pulpit  bench  back  to  its  legitimate 
position.  Old  Nokkerman  tried  to  scratch  his  head, 
but  discovered,  as  his  fingers  slid  impotently  over 
the  soaped  locks,  that  the  ends  of  justice  are  some 
times  attained  only  through  extra  annoyance  to  the 
offended ;  Petrus  von  Schlenker,  who  had  been 
slowly  realizing  that  he  had  sustained  no  personal 
grievance,  made  the  best  of  his  time  by  engaging 
the  justice  on  local  politics  ;  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel 
carefully  secured  the  offending  pin,  and  the  con 
stable  went  in  search  of  the  yet  unapprehended 
offenders. 

Meanwhile,  the  innocent  half  of  the  Pinkshaw* 
twins,  who  had  been  listening  outside  the  window, 
had  heard  the  list  of  the  offenders  pronounced  by 
the  justice  as  he  wrote  the  warrant,  and  discovered 
to  his  horror  that  his  own  name  was  included  therein, 
the  informer  having  been  uncertain  as  to  which 
Pinkshaw  twin  was  present.  An  inborn  sense  of 
equity  suggested  to  him  the  application  of  the  prin 
ciple  of  an  alibi,  but  later  he  realized  that  to  be 
innocent  yet  suspected,  would  justify  him  in  escaping 
the  hated  French  class,  and  yet  save  him  from  the 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  95 

ordinary  penalty  of  truancy.  Away  he  sped  to 
notify  the  whole  list,  and  within  half  an  hour  nearly 
all  the  boys  whose  names  were  upon  the  warrant 
were  informed  of  their  legal  status,  while  the  con 
stable,  who  fully  realized  how  much  work  was  before 
him,  had  barely  finished  strengthening  himself  at 
Gripp's  rumshop. 

The  first  man  notified  was  Jack,  and  as  that 
youth  had  an  utter  abhorrence  of  loneliness  he  sug 
gested  to  the  Pinkshaw  twin  that  he  should  name 
the  Dead  House  blackberry  patch  as  a  safe  place  of 
rendezvous,  inasmuch  as  nobody  would  be  likely  to 
go  there,  the  blackberry  season  being  over,  there 
being  no  contagious  disease  raging  in  town,  and  the 
house  being  off  the  road  to  any  where.  He  also 
suggested  that  the  boys  should  bring  with  them 
whatever  provisions  they  could  lay  hands  upon. 
Then  Jack,  with  his  heart  in  his  stockings,  and  his 
eyes  feeling  ready  to  overflow,  made  haste  to  col 
lect  a  hatchet,  a  box  of  matches,  his  fishing  tackle 
and  whatever  else  he  could  think  of,  in  his  haste,  as 
likely  to  mitigate  the  privations  of  exile.  Great  as 
his  haste  was,  he  found  time  to  hide  in  the  corn- 
crib  for  a  moment  or  two,  kneel  devoutly,  and  in 
form  the  Lord  that  he  hadn't  meant  to  do  anything 


96  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

wrong,  and  that  he  hoped  when  next  there  was  a 
scrape  impending,  the  Lord  would  send  an  angel 
to  forcibly  drive  Jack  from  the  scene  of  action. 
More  mature  sinners,  as  they  smile  pityingly  at 
this  style  of  repentance,  would  do  well  to  examine 
their  own  business  consciences,  and  restrain  their 
smiles  until  they  ascertain  whether  they  have  not 
themselves  indulged  in  many  a  similar  ex  post  facto 
operation. 

Arrived  at  the  Dead  House  blackberry  patch, 
Jack  found  quite  an  assortment  of  solemn-faced 
boys  under  the  shady  side  of  the  high  board  fence. 
All  of  the  guilty  parties  were  there,  except  Sam 
Mugley,  the  saddler  shop  apprentice,  whose  em 
ployer  had  'agreed  to  surrender  the  boy  when  neces 
sary  ;  there  were  also  present  many  boys  who  pre 
ferred  to  flee  the  evils  which  they  knew — to  wit, 
French  paradigms — than  endure  those  they  knew 
not  of.  Several  boys  immediately  demanded  of 
Jack  what  was  to  be  done,  and  while  the  interro 
gated  youth  retired  within  himself  to  devise  a  plan 
of  action,  Ben  Bagger,  who  read  all  the  popular 
literature  for  boys,  suggested  that  they  should  or 
ganize  under  the  title  of  "  The  Bloody  Land  Pi 
rates,"  and  prey  upon  the  society  which  had  un- 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  97 

justly  cast  them  out,  but  this  suggestion  was 
severely  damaged  by  Jack,  who  said  that  the  duty 
of  the  hour  was  to  see  that  things  were  made  no 
worse.  Then  Jack  decreed  that  the  party  should 
retain  its  present  quarters,  separating  if  it  chose,  at 
nightfall,  to  slumber  in  neighboring  barns,  fishing  at 
dawn  and  after  sunset,  and  diverting  itself  by  what 
ever  means  were  available,  until  a  general  amnesty 
could  be  procured. 

For  an  hour  or  two  the  group  amused  itself  with 
conversation,  the  guilty  Pinkshaw  twin  causing  con 
siderable  merriment  by  a  recital  of  the  experiences 
of  the  righteous  Germans  on  the  preceding  night. 
Jack  endeavored  to  withdraw  himself  from  the 
Pinkshaw  twin's  audience,  but  who  does  not  enjoy 
retrospects  of  affairs  which  in  themselves  were  en 
joyable  ?  So  he  lingered,  afar  off,  yet  within  sound 
of  the  Pinkshaw  twin's  voice  until  that  youth  allud 
ed  to  Jack  having  taken  a  seat  among  the  pious, 
and  then  Jack,  like  the  cowardly  apostle  Peter,  be 
gan  to  curse  and  to  swear.  The  ways  of  Peter 
came  to  his  mind,  both  reproachingly  and  in  com 
fort,  for  he  remembered  that  Peter  had  behaved 
valiantly  after  discovering  what  a  blatant,  white- 
livered  sort  of  a  fellow  he  was,  and  Jack,  to  stifle 


98  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

his  conscience,  was  willing  for  the  moment  to 
believe  that  if  he  himself  swore,  lied  and  put  in  a 
general  denial,  the  evil  might  be  excusable  for  the 
sake  of  the  good  it  might  bring.  In  this  respect  he 
so  much  resembled  many  an  unscrupulous  wire 
puller  in  church  affairs  that  no  theological  par- 
tizan  can  fail  to  sympathize  with  him. 

After  the  story  of  the  German  Methodist  meet 
ing  had  concluded,  conversation  languished,  and 
-several  boys  complained  of  hunger.  Jack  took 
charge  of  the  commissariat  and  having  carefully 
garnered  all  the  provisions  that  had  been  brought, 
he  suggested  to  those  who  were  guiltless  (except  of 
truancy)  that  if  they  would  go  boldly  to  the  justice, 
claim  to  have  been  at  Billy  Barker's  sister's  party  at 
the  time  of  the  outrage,  and  offer  Billy,  his  sister 
and  his  mother  in  evidence,  they  would,  without 
doubt,  be  cleared.  When  these  boys  had  reluctant 
ly  departed,  the  assemblage  was  reduced  to  five 
boys,  three  of  whom  had  done  nothing  worse  than 
laugh  at  the  capers  which  had  been  played  upon  the 
faithful,  Jack  and  the  Pinkshaw  twin,  who  pleaded 
guilty  of  having  thrown  the  spitball  at  old  Nokker- 
man's  bare  scalp,  constituting  the-remainder. 

How  these  were  to  pass  the  time  until  night  was 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  99 

a  serious  problem,  when  one  of  the  innocent,  who 
was  also  a  loafer,  produced  a  grimy  pack  of  cards, 
and  therewith  he  soon  won  all  the  fractional  cur 
rency  in  possession  of  his  companions  ;  then  he  de 
parted,  having  doubly  avenged  himself  upon  fate  by 
dining  heartily  upon  the  stores  of  the  exiles.  Of 
the  quartette  which  remained,  Jack  was  outwardly 
the  most  cheerful  and  careless,  but  inwardly — well, 
he  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  Spartan  boy  who 
allowed  a  fox  to  prey  upon  his  vitals  while  he  was 
denying  any  knowledge  even  of  the  existence  of  a 
fox  anywhere  nearer  than  the  Apennines.  Ruling 
in  hell  might  have  its  social  advantages  over  serv 
ing  in  heaven,  but  in  whatever  location  a  man  may 
be,  there  will  the  appropriate  mental  temperature 
be  also.  Jack's  remorse  was  genuine  and  terrible, 
and  he  admitted  to  himself  that  he  would  gladly 
make  any  reparation,  endure  any  obloquy,  suffer  any 
punishment,  in  fact,  go  through  anything  that  could 
be  devised — except  being  caught  by  the  con 
stable. 

When  supper  time  came  and  went,  it  was  dis 
covered  that  the  larder  would  be  empty  in  the 
morning,  but  fortunately  Matt  appeared,  coming  at 
night,  like  Nicodemus,  for  fear  of  the  authorities, 


IOO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

and  brought  with  him  a  whole  loaf  of  bread  and  fifty 
or  sixty  cubic  inches  of  boiled  ham.  But  the  boys 
slept  out  of  doors  that  night,  and  awoke  with  such 
appetites  that  the  bread  and  ham  disappeared  and 
they  were  still  hungry.  Then  they  stole  many  ears 
of  scarcely  ripe  green  corn,  which  they  roasted  and 
ate  for  dinner  without  successfully  filling  their  re 
spective  aching  voids.  A  raid  was  made  upon  a 
patch  of  early  potatoes,  but  these  did  not  roast  sat 
isfactorily,  as  any  of  the  boys  might  have  known 
had  they  ever  tried  an  early  potato  before.  The 
final  result  was  that  the  boys  slept  supperless,  and 
were  at  the  mill-dam  before  daylight,  where  they 
were  successful  in  demonstrating  to  certain  occu 
pants  of  the  water  that  catching  the  early  worm  is 
not  an  unmixed  blessing.  But  even  fish,  broiled  on 
sticks  or  fried  on  a  heated  plowshare  which  some 
body  had  stolen,  are  not  particularly  palatable 
when  eaten  without  salt  or  bread.  So  the  party 
finally  sneaked  toward  town  with  hungry  faces,  vigi 
lant  eyes,  and  waistbands  which  would  lap  past 
their  accustomed  meeting  place,  and  fasten,  without 
extra  tugging,  at  the  first  suspender  button. 

Meanwhile,  the  constable  had  been   prowling  in 
dustriously   about    the    town,    stimulated    beyond 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  IOI 

average  official  enthusiasm  by  the  offer  of  a  ten- 
dollar  bill  from  the  German  Methodist  treasury,  for 
the  apprehension  of  all  the  culprits.  He  had  ex 
amined  the  innocent  boys  with  the  result  of  deter 
mining  that  the  juvenile  mind  is  deceitful  above  all 
things  and  desperately  wicked.  He  had  been  to 
the  mill-dam  only  to  discover  traces  of  early  work 
by  workers  who,  like  the  Arabs,  had  "  silently  stolen 
away ;"  he  had  watched  under  the  windows  of  him 


Who  returneth, 


Whose  chamber  lamp  burneth 
No  more, " 

He  had  examined  the  cock-loft  of  the  school,  ridden 
along  the  river-bank,  sneaked  beside  the  fences  of 
popular  orchards,  and  lain  in  ambush  near  brush- 
heaps  where  laying  hens  most  did  congregate.  He 
had  even  tracked,  to  unprofitable  localities,  various 
boys  whom  he  suspected  of  conveying  aid  and 
comfort  to  the  enemy,  and  all  he  could  show  for 
his  pains  was  a  badly  sunburned  nose,  and  a  pair  of 
boots  considerably  damaged  by  brush-wood  and 
concealed  stumps. 

At  noon,  on  the  third  day,  he  was  completely 
exhausted,    and    determined    that   if    ever   a   good 


IO2  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

watermelon  could  supply  a  pleasing  finale  to  a 
noon-day  meal,  it  was  then.  So  he  walked  out  to 
his  own  melon-patch,  chuckling,  as  he  went,  over 
the  strict  seclusion  of  the  same,  for  it  occupied  the 
centre  of  a  hollow  square,  the  sides  of  which  con 
sisted  of  dense  rows  of  tall  corn.  As  he  ap 
proached  this  from  his  own  back  door,  he  per 
ceived  how  vain  is  the  cunning  of  man  when  con 
fronted  by  the  intuition  of  the  bad  boy ;  for  there 
— at  ease,  and  enjoying  the  particularly  large 
melon  which  he  had  been  reserving  against  a  day 
when  upon  his  wife  might  accidentally  be  inflicted 
a  deluge  of  company — sat  the  boys  for  whom  he 
had  been  looking. 

The  constable  roared  "  Halt !  "  but  with  no  more 
success  than  if  he  were  an  army  officer  in  the  midst 
of  a  panic,  for  the  boys  separated  in  the  corn  rows, 
and  the  official  was  undecided  as  to  which  to  fol 
low.  So,  indulging  to  an  injudicious  extent  in  that 
profanity  which  so  naturally  attends  indecision  and 
failure,  he  strove  gloomily  to  the  foot  of  his  garden 
to  discover,  to  his  great  delight,  that  Jack  had 
stumbled,  fallen  and  knocked  all  the  breath  out  of 
his  body  without  seeming  able  to  regain  enough  for 
practical  purposes.  In  an  instant  Jack  was  in  the 


THE    STRONG    ARM    OK    THE    LAW. 


p.    103. 


FUGITIVES    FROM    JUSTICE.  IO3 

official's  arms,  and  though  he  bit,  scratched,  kicked 
and  begged,  he  was  speedily  invested  in  a  pair  of 
handcuffs  in  the  constable's  dining-room,  and  after 
ward  led  slowly  through  the  main  street  to  the 
town  jail. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE. 

IT  was  customary  in  Doveton  to  put  sober  of 
fenders  against  the  peace  in  the  second  floor 
rooms  of  the  jail,  for  these,  though  not  containing 
everything  that  a  fastidious  taste  might  desire, 
were  well  lighted  and  ventilated.  But  as  the  con 
stable  led  Jack  to  jail,  he  thought  upon  his  own 
despoiled  melon  patch,  so  he  decided  to  put  the 
young  man  into  the  dungeon  which  was  reserved 
for  the  most  depraved  disturbers  and  desperate 
villains.  As  Jack  was  pushed  into  this  receptacle 
he  noticed,  with  a  sinking  of  the  heart,  that  the 
door  was  a  foot  thick,  built  of  most  chilling  oak- 
tree  hearts,  and  strapped  with  huge  bars  of  iron. 
Not  that  he  had  contemplated  escape ;  he  was 
just  then  too  feeble  of  soul  to  contemplate  any 
thing  but  his  own  iniquity  ;  but  he  had  the  natural, 
healthful  objection  to  restraint,  and  when  restraint 
can  be  measured  by  the  cubic  foot  it  is  depressing 

104 


THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE.  lOj 

almost  to  idiocy.  Then  the  constable  shot  four 
massive  bolts,  each  one  of  which  seemed  to  give 
Jack's  heart  a  mighty  thump  as  it  grated  and 
groaned  into  its  proper  place.  Jack  turned  to  look 
at  the  window.  It  was  of  rough  glass,  so  that  a 
prisoner  could  not  look  out ;  it  was  only  six 
inches  high,  though  its  length  was  about  two  feet, 
and  it  was  crossed  both  inside  and  outside  by  stout 
bars  of  iron  let  into  the  stone.  The  furniture, 
when  Jack's  eyes  became  sufficiently  accustomed  to 
the  dim  light  to  see  it  all,  consisted  of  a  dingy  cot 
of  canvas  and  a  broken  pitcher  containing  the 
water  left  by  the  cell's  last  occupant,  who  had  gone 
to  the  state  prison  two  months  before  for  passing 
counterfeit  money.  The  only  decorations  were 
some  cobwebs,  which  in  tone  harmonized  with  the 
general  effect  of  the  interior,  and  an  engraving, 
upon  the  stone  of  the  lightest  side  of  the  cell,  of  a 
frightful  looking  being  with  horns,  hoof  and  barbed 
tail,  having  beneath  it  the  inscription,  "  ThE 
DEViL  Taik  Evry  boDDy."  The  odor  of  the 
apartment  was  undesirable. 

By  the  time  Jack  had  learned  this  much,  he 
threw  himself  upon  the  canvas  cot,  careless  of  what 
else  there  might  be  to  observe,  and  sobbed  vio- 


TOO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

lently.  This,  then,  was  the  end  of  the  boy  who 
had  been  so  good  for  a  month,  who  was  going  to 
join  the  church  and  be  useful  in  persuading  other 
boys  out  of  bad  courses,  and  be  a  missionary,  per 
haps,  and  a  minister  at  the  very  least !  Everybody 
now  would  think  him  a  hypocrite  ;  he  would  prob 
ably  be  sent  to  the  penitentiary  for  a  year  or 
two,  for  now  that  the  proper  occasion  for  recall 
ing  the  fact  had  passed,  he  remembered  to  have 
heard  that  disturbing  religious  assemblages  was  a 
great  crime  in  the  eyes  of  the  law.  Perhaps  they 
would  send  him  to  the  reform  school,  which 
would  be  a  thousand  times  worse  than  the  peni 
tentiary,  for  the  word  "  reform "  suggested  as 
dreadful  possibilities  to  Jack  as  it  ever  did  to  a  self- 
made  politician.  When  he  came  out  again  what 
would  happen  to  him  ?  He  had  never  seen  any 
persons  but  loafers  pay  any  attention  to  dis 
charged  prisoners  who  made  Doveton  their  abiding 
place.  Nobody  would  let  their  boys  play  with  him 
then — if,  indeed,  by  that  time  he  had  enough  youth 
and  spirits  left  to  want  to  play  ;  he  would  have  to 
sit  on  the  back  seats  in  church  among  the  sad-eyed, 
uninteresting  reprobates  who  now  sat  there,  instead 
of  among  the  neatly  dressed  boys  who  sat  under 
the  eyes  of  their  parents  and  the  preacher. 


THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE.  IO/ 

Then  Jack  thought  of  the  hereafter,  in  the  lit 
eral,  material  manner,  which  was  the  natural  result 
of     the    religious     teachings   he  had    received.     If 
angels  knew   everything  and  went    wherever   they 
pleased,  and   if    his   deceased   brothers   and   sisters 
became  angels  just  after  they  died — they  had  been 
angelic    while   they  lived — how    must  they  feel  to 
see  their  well-born,  carefully  taught  brother  in  so 
dreadful    a  place  as  a   common  prison  ?     As  Jack 
thought  of  it  he  wished  the  prison  bed  had  a  cover 
under  which  he  could  hide ;  but  as   it  had  not,  he 
squeezed  his  face  and  flattened    his  nose    upon  the 
rough,  dirty   canvas.     The  thought  of  his  parents 
recalled    the    wish,   frequently   felt    by    Jack,   that 
somebody    would   understand  him,  know  how  ear 
nestly  he  longed  to  be  good — some   one  to  whom 
he    could  tell  some    of  the   splendid    thoughts   he 
sometimes    had — thoughts   which  would  simply  as 
tonish  his  parents  out  of  their  senses,  if  he  could 
feel  free  to  tell  them.     Why  didn't  people  give  him 
credit  for    what    was  in    him,   instead  of  eternally 
finding  fault  with  him  for  what  came  out  of   him  ? 
Was  he  a  jug  that  he  should  be  judged   in   such  a 
manner  ?     Looking  the  matter  squarely  in  the  face, 
however,  how  was  any   one  to   know  what  was    in 
side  of  him  except  by  what  proceeded  from  him  ? 


IOS  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

This  train  of  reasoning  was  promptly  dismissed 
as  unpleasant  in  the  extreme,  and  Jack  began  to 
search  his  pockets  for  something  that  might  assist 
him  in  consuming  time  more  endurably,  when  some 
one  at  the  grating  in  the  door  startled  him  by  ex 
claiming: 

"  Well,  young  man  !  " 

Jack  recognized  the  voice  of  his  father,  and  his 
heart  went  down,  down,  down,  apparently  through 
the  floor,  and  all  the  way  into  the  depths  of  the  mid 
dle  of  the  western  half  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  which, 
by  careful  investigation,  Jack  had  determined  was  the 
geographical  antipode  of  Doveton.  Then  the  door 
opened,  and  Jack's  father  entered,  and,  oh,  horror 
of  horrors !  he  brought  with  him  Mr.  Daybright,  the 
minister.  Jack  sat  upon  the  side  of  the  cot  and 
nervelessly  dropped  his  face  into  his  hands  and  his 
elbows  upon  his  knees. 

"Well,  young  man,"  resumed  the  doctor,  "  what 
have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself  ?  " 

Jack  preserved  utter  silence,  but  determined  that 
he  never  before  heard  so  exasperating  a  ques 
tion. 

"  My  poor  boy,"  said  Mr.  Daybright,  sitting  down 
beside  Jack  and  putting  his  arm  around  him,  "  Sa- 

r 


THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE.  IOQ 

tan  has  indeed  been  making  a  mighty  fight  to  se 
cure  your  immortal  part." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  sobbed  Jack,  glad  of  a  chance 
to  lay  the  blame  of  his  mischievousness  upon  some 
body  else,  and  determining  that  if  he  ever  did  be 
come  a  minister,  he  would  make  things  lively  for 
Matt  Bolton's  father,  who  denied  the  existence  of  a 
personal  devil.  ' 

"  So  think  I,"  remarked  the  doctor,  "  and  a  very 
successful  job  Satan  has  made  of  it.  I  wish  he 
would  give  me  a  few  lessons  in  the  art  of  getting 
hold  of  boys." 

The  minister  thought  to  himself  that  it  was  not 
necessary  for  the  doctor  to  go  so  far  for  informa 
tion  when  he  could  have  obtained  it  from  present 
company,  but  as  the  doctor  paid  a  large  pew  rent  in 
Mr.  Daybright's  church,  that  divine  thought  it  in 
advisable  to  offend  a  person  upon  whom  a  portion 
of  his  own  salary  depended.  But  he  could  safely 
say  what  he  chose  to  Jack,  so  he  said  : 

"  Rouse  yourself,  my  dear  young  friend  ;  you 
still  live  and  move  and  have  your  being,  and 

While  the  lamp  holds  out  to  burn 
The  vilest  sinner  may  return,' 

yo'u  know.  Why  not,  in  this  unsavory  place,  eschew 
finally  and  forever  all  bad  associations?" 


IIO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"I  will — oh,  I  will!"  cried  Jack. 

"  I've  heard  something  of  the  sort  before,"  re 
marked  the  doctor.  "  I've  heard  it  from  this  young 
scamp  himself,  and,  Mr.  Daybright,  you  and  I  have 
often  heard  it  from  men  who  thought  they  were 
upon  their  death-beds." 

"  Blessed  be  death-beds,  then,"  fervently  ex 
claimed  the  minister.  "  Jack,  why  don't  you  de 
termine  to  say,  hereafter  and  always,  '  Get  thee  be 
hind  me,  Satan  ! '  when  wrong  impulses  make  them 
selves  known  in  your  mind?" 

"  I  have  done  it,"  said  Jack,  recalling  his  experi 
ence  with  the  pin  in  the  German  Methodist  meet 
ing,  "  but  it  don't  take  him  long  to  get  around  in 
front  of  me  again." 

The  doctor  hid  an  unseemly  giggle  in  his  hand 
kerchief,  and  the  minister  himself  was  temporarily 
silenced  ;  then  the  doctor  managed  to  straighten 
Out  his  voice,  as  he  said  : 

"  Listen  to  me,  my  boy.  I  can  take  you  out  o[ 
this  vile  hole,  but  only  by  subscribing  a  hundred 
dollars  to  the  debt  of  the  German  Methodist  church, 
repairing  their  broken  window,  giving  them  a  new 
Bible,  changing  my  custom  from  the  market  to 
Shantz  the  butcher,  who  doesn't  sell  the  best  of 


THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE.  Ill 

meat  but  does  charge  the  highest  prices,  asking  Bol- 
ton  to  raise  the  salary  of  old  Nokkerman,  reducing 
the  amount  of  my  bill  to  Petrus  von  Schlenker"- 

"  I  didn't  do  anything  to  any  of  these  people," 
interrupted  Jack. 

"  Whether  you  did  or  not,"  said  the  doctor, 
"  doesn't  affect  the  case.  You  did  something,  what 
ever  it  was,  to  disturb  that  meeting ;  those  men 
were  all  there,  they  are  all  among  the  complainants, 
and  must  be  satisfied  in  order  to  persuade  them  to 
withdraw  their  complaint." 

"  Didn't  —  didn't  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel  want 
anything  ?  "  asked  Jack  falteringly. 

"  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "  it  was  you  who 
made  him  sit  upon  that  crooked  pin,  was  it?  How 
did  you  do  it?" 

Jack,  finding  himself  trapped  by  his  own  words, 
meekly  explained  the  operation  which  led  to  Nuder- 
kopf's  spasmodic  loquacity,  both  visitors  holding 
their  mouths  as  he  did  so.  Then  the  doctor  re 
sumed  the  disturbed  line  of  the  conversation  by 
asking: 

"What  do  you  propose  to  do?" 
"  Oh  !  "  said  Jack,  raising  his  head,  "  I'll  be  a  min 
ister,  and  preach  to  bad  boys  all  my  life,  if  you  will 


112  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

only  get  me  out  of  here,  and  send  me  off  to  some 
seminary  where  nobody  knows  me." 

"  Umph  !  "  grunted  the  doctor.  "  And  what  sort 
of  a  living  do  you  suppose  you'll  earn  in  that  busi 
ness  ?  " 

"'  Quench  not  the  Spirit,' "  quoted  the  minister, 
and  the  doctor  inwardly  acknowledged  the  justice 
of  the  rebuke,  though  he  hypocritically  remarked 
that  he  had  spoken  thus  only  to  test  Jack's  sincerity. 

"  Will  you  let  other  boys  alone — keep  away  from 
them  entirely?"  asked  the  doctor. 

This  was  severer  than  Jack  had  anticipated,  even 
when  in  the  depths  of  contrition  and  apprehension, 
so  he  dropped  his  head  again,  and  realized  anew 
what  a  dreadful  thing  sin  was  when  one  came  to 
look  it  fairly  in  the  face. 

"Do  you  hear  me?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  All  but  Matt,  father,"  said  Jack.  "  He  never 
does  anything  wrong,  unless  I  put  him  up  to  it,  and 
I'll  promise  never  to  tell  him  any  good  thing  again, 
if  you'll  let  me  go  with  him." 

"  Good  thing  !  "  ejaculated  the  doctor.  "  What 
sort  of  repentance  do  you  call  that,  dominie, 
when  outrageous  capers  are  characterized  as  good 
things?" 


THE   STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE.  113 

The  minister  shook  his  head  gravely,  and  an 
swered  : 

"  My  dear  young  friend,  you  must  realize  that 
what  you  call  good  things  are  really  bad  things. 
Until  you  fully  understand  this,  there  is  nothing 
to  prevent  your  getting  into  just  such  trouble 
again." 

"  Then  I'll  call  everything  bad,"  said  Jack  ;  "  black- 
berrying,  fishing,  answers  to  hard  sums, — 

"  Gently,  boy,"  said  the  minister.  "  None  of 
these  things  do  harm  to  any  one." 

"  I  supposed  they  did,"  cried  Jack,  "  for  I  like 
them  all,  and  it  seems  as  if  whatever  I  like  is  bad." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  minister,  while  the  doctor 
hastily  drew  forth  his  notebook  and  made  the 
following  note  for  the  great  work  on  heredity : 
"  When  a  person  is  suffering,  he  is  liable  to  believe 
that  things  have  always  been  as  they  are  at  that 
particular  moment ;  hence  the  unhealthy  poems, 
novels  and  dramas  which  certain  disordered  minds 
spring  upon  the  public."  Then  the  doctor  replaced 
his  notebook,  contemplated  the  weeping  boy  for  a 
moment  or  two,  sat  down  beside  him,  put  his  arms 
around  him,  and  exclaimed  : 

"  My  darling  boy,  I  love  you  better  than  I  love 


I  14  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

my  life."  The  doctor  lied  terribly,  as  most  busy 
people  do  who  affirm  strong,  unselfish  sentiments, 
but  Jack  was  not  in  a  condition  just  then  to  ques 
tion  the  character  of  any  one  who  cared  to  befriend 
him,  so  he  hid  his  face  in  his  father's  breast  and 
cried  as  if  he  could  not  stop.  He  even  threw  his 
own  arms  about  the  doctor  with  a  mighty  grip,  con 
sidering  how  young  the  boy  was. 

"  Think  of  your  mother,  too,"  pleaded  the  doctor. 
"  She  has  suffered  more  for  you  than  you  ever  can 
for  yourself,  and  she  is  dreadfully  feeble  and  ner 
vous  ;  do  try  to  lighten  the  load  which  at  best  must 
be  very  heavy  to  her." 

"  I  will,"  said  Jack  ;  "  indeed  I  will.  I'll  darn  all 
my  own  stockings." 

"  And,"  said  the  minister,  who  wished  all  things 
done  decently  and  in  order  as  established  by  Provi 
dence,  "  pray  daily  for  grace  to  overcome  every  sin." 

"  I  always  do,"  said  Jack,  "  but  it  don't  always 
work." 

"  It  never  will,"  said  the  minster,  "  if  you  don't 
act  as  if  your  prayer  was  in  earnest.  No  amount 
of  praying  will  keep  you  out  of  a  mud-puddle  if  you 
persist  in  wanting  to  go  into  it." 

"  Well,  come  along,"   remarked  the  doctor,  who 


THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE.  JI5 

had  consulted  his  watch,  and  remembered  a  patient 
who  expected  a  call  just  then.  The  door  opened, 
and  the  trio  stepped  into  the  hall;  just  then  'there 
came  along  a  zephyr  which  had  passed  a  kitchen 
where  onions  were  being  boiled,  but  for  all  that, 
Jack  thought  it  the  most  delicious  breeze  that  ever 
blew.  The  constable,  who  stood  outside  the  door 
gave  Jack  a  most  discomposing  scowl  which  was  not 
entirely  disconnected  with  remembrances  of  water 
melons,  but  Jack,  instead  of  repaying  the  scowl  in 
kind,  which  he  could  have  done  with  entire  success 
from  his  own  incomparable  collection  of  faces,  in 
wardly  determined  that  at  some  appropriate  time 
he  would  privately  apologize  to  the  official  and  re 
pay  his  water  melon  in  kind.  As  his  father  and  the 
minister  turned  toward  the  main  street,  Jack  ex 
hibited  strong  manifestations  of  reluctance,  so  both 
gentlemen  concluded  it  would  be  only  merciful  to 
lead  the  boy  homeward  through  less  frequented 
streets.  But  it  seemed  to  Jack  as  if  the  whole  town 
had  known  of  his  impending  release,  and  were  lying 
in  wait  to  look  at  him.  Shantz  the  butcher  drove 
by  and  glared  at  him  ;  old  Nokkerman,  en  route  for 
supper,  looked  upon  him  reproachfully;  Nuderkopf 
Trinkelspiel,  who  was  mixing  mortar  in  front  of  a 


Il6  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

new  building,  contemplated  him  with  the  stony 
stare  which  is  not  peculiar  to  cockneys  only,  and 
Matt  himself  went  by  without  bestowing  even  a 
friendly  wink  upon  him. 

Worst  of  all,  as  the  trio  passed  Billy  Barker's 
house,  the  nice  little  sister  of  Billy  happened  to 
step  outside  the  door.  Jack  dropped  his  eyes  ever 
so  far,  but  he  could  not  resist  looking  out  of  their 
extreme  corners  to  see  what  she  might  think  of  him. 
The  face  which  he  saw  contained  considerable  won 
der,  but  it  also  expressed  a  sorrow  which  was  un 
mixed  with  reprobation,  and  by  the  time  that  Jack 
reached  home  he  was  brimful  of  a  feeling  to  which 
he  had  hitherto  been  an  utter  stranger.  It  was  not 
love,  as  that  sentiment  is  conventionally  defined,  for 
it  was  entirely  devoid  of  passion  and  selfishness,  but 
it  is  not  surprising  that  Jack,  having  never  heard 
love  talked  of  but  in  one  way — to  wit,  a  strong  re 
gard  for  one  person  by  another  person  of  the  oppo 
site  sex — should  go  home  with  the  firm  conviction 
that  he  was  oceans  deep  in  love  with  nice  little 
Mattie  Barker.  To  get  a  kind  look  from  a  person 
of  whom  you  have  never  heard  anything  bad,  a  per 
son  who  never  scolded  you,  nor  meddled  with  any 
of  your  affairs,  and  in  whose  face  you  can  see  no 


THE    STOOL    OF    REPENTANCE. 

evidence  of  guile,  will  doubtless  cause  you,  adult 
reader,  to  contemplate  such  person  with  earnest  re 
gard,  and  if  you  are  a  man  and  the  person  alluded 
to  is  of  the  other  sex,  you  will  hardly  be  able,  even 
in  the  light  of  your  past  experience  among  hu 
manity,  to  imagine  any  reason  why  she  may  not  be 
an  angel  in  human  form. 


CHAPTER  X. 

YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS. 

FOR  a  month  Jack  labored  manfully  to  keep  his 
pledge  to  eschew  the  society  of  boys,  and  a 
very  miserable  month  it  was.  He  at  first  determined 
to  not  even  answer  any  boy  who  spoke  to  him,  but 
this  led  to  his  being  called  "  Proudy,"  and  "  Cod 
fish,"  and  "  Bloated  Aristocrat."  All  this  was  very 
galling  to  a  youth  who  considered  himself  as  pre 
eminently  a  man  of  the  people.  Then,  one  day,  as 
he  was  hoeing  potatoes  in  the  family  garden,  half  a 
dozen  boys  leaned  on  the  fence  for  an  hour,  and 
shouted  themselves  hoarse  by  exclaiming  in  con 
cert,  "  Tombstone  !  "  To  hold  one's  tongue,  as 
Jack  did  throughout  the  infliction,  is  to  prove  one's 
self  a  possessor  of  a  high  degree  of  self-control. 
When,  however,  the  half  dozen  boys  grew  angry  at 
their  inability  to  elicit  any  response,  and  began  to 
throw  stones  at  the  young  gardener,  Jack's  en 
durance  escaped  him  suddenly  and  he  dashed,,  at 

118 


YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS.  I  19 

the  fence,  hoe  in  hand.  All  the  boys  fled  except 
one  who,  being  a  rowdy,  had  hugged  one  of  the 
palings  in  the  affectionate  manner  peculiar  to 
rowdies,  and  had  unconsciously  established  an  en 
tangling  alliance  between  the  paling  and  a  hole  in 
his  shirt.  Him,  Jack  pounded  over  the  head  with 
the  hoe  handle  until  utter  breathlessness  compelled 
the  operator  to  discontinue  his  labors  ;  then  Jack 
cut  him  loose  with  his  pocket-knife  and  sent  him 
away  after  an  interchange  of  terrible  threats  had 
been  effected.  As  the  rowdy's  skull  had  a  roof  of 
wondrous  thickness,  he  sustained  no  injury  in  his 
mental  parts,  so  he  changed  his  base  only  to  a 
point  from  which  he  could  watch  Jack's  going  in 
and  coming  out. 

An  hour  later,  as  Jack  was  going  to  the  store, 
with  two  empty  jugs  to  be  filled,  respectively,  with 
vinegar  and  molasses,  the  rowdy  sprang  at  him 
from  a  sheltering  fence  corner.  Jack  shouted 
"Foul!"  but  the  rowdy  was  not  particular  to 
regard  the  rules  of  the  ring  just  then,  so  he  stuck 
one  dirty  finger  in  Jack's  mouth  so  as  to  obtain  a 
secure  grip,  and  then  with  amazing  celerity,  in 
vested  Jack  with  a  bloody  nose  and  a  black  eye. 
Jack  was  not  going  to  abandon  the  family  property, 


I2O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

even  in  a  fight,  so  he  retained  tight  hold  of  the 
jugs,  raised  his  hands  alternately  and  smote  his  an 
tagonist,  first  with  one  jug  and  then  with  the  other. 
Then  the  rowdy  made  haste  to  cry  "  Foul !"  but 
Jack,  merely  remarking,  "  What's  sauce  for  the 
goose — ''  allowed  the  rowdy  to  complete  the  quota 
tion  for  himself,  striking  him  meanwhile  wherever 
an  unprotected  point  presented  itself.  A  final  blow 
in  the  pit  of  the  stomach  caused  the  rowdy  to  curl 
up  on  the  lap  of  mother  earth,  and  then  Jack  dis 
covered,  for  the  first  time,  that  all  that  remained  of 
the  jugs  were  their  respective  handles,  and  that  the 
rowdy  was  bleeding  profusely  in  several  places. 

Jack  had  never  before  seen  a  more  dangerous 
wound  than  a  cut  finger,  and  even  of  these  he  had 
seen  but  one  at  a  time,  so  he  greatly  feared  that 
the  rowdy  would  bleed  to  death.  What  to  do,  he 
did  not  know  ;  he  recalled  the  little  affair  of  Moses 
with  the  Egyptian  taskmaster,  and  determined  that 
flight  was  the  dictate  of  prudence,  but  as  for  bury 
ing  his  victim  in  the  sand,  there  was  no  sand  nearer 
than  the  river  bank,  a  mile  away,  ari'd  the  dirt 
under  the  rowdy  was  a  hard-beaten  footpath. 
Away  flew  Jack  toward  home  and  into  his  father's 
office,  where  he  exclaimed  : 


YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS.  121 

"  Father,  there's  a  rowdy  dying  out  on  the  path 
to  the  store." 

"  Heaven  be  praised  !  "  said  the  doctor  ;"  "  that'll 
lessen  the  state  prison  expenses  a  few  dollars." 

"  He's  bleeding  to  death,"  explained  Jack. 

"  Oh,"  said  the  doctor  arising  and  snatching  a 
case  of  instruments,  "  that's  a  different  thing ; 
it  now  becomes  an  opportunity  for  experimental 
surgery." 

"  It  was  I  that  killed  him,"  continued  Jack,  in 
a  very  thin  voice. 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  dropping  his  in 
struments.  "  Then  you'd  better  get  out  as  fast  as 
you  can,  and  not  let  me  know  where  you  are  until 
you  have  to.  Don't  ever  do  it — I  don't  want  even 
to  see  you  again — I  wash  my  hands  of  you  forever." 

"  Father  !  "  screamed  Jack  in  utter  agony,  while 
gallows  trees  sprung  up  before  his  eyes  in  every  di 
rection,  "  let  me  tell  you  how  it  was."  And  Jack 
hastily  detailed  his  experiences  of  the  morning,  con 
cluding  with  : 

"  It  was  all  because  I  was  trying  so  hard  to  mind 
you,  and  not  have  anything  to  do  with  boys." 

The  doctor  threw  his  arms  around  the  youth,  and 
exclaimed  : 


122  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  You're  a  darling,  noble,  splendid  boy,  but  there 
is  no  knowing  how  a  jury  may  look  at  the  case, 
when  your  previous  reputation  is  considered.  Get 
ready  to  hide." 

Jack  hurried  up  to  his  room  for  what  seemed  to 
him  necessities,  but  he  had  time  to  reflect  upon  his 
varied  experiences  to  do  right,  with  their  lament 
able  results,  and  to  wonder  if  it  were  not  really  true, 
as  was  implied  by  some  novels  he  had  been  unfor 
tunate  enough  to  read,  that  fate  occasionally  for 
bade  some  people  to  do  right  successfully.  Of  one 
thing  he  was  very  sure ;  come  what  would,  he  never 
could  ask  nice  little  Mattie  Baker  to  become  the 
wife  of  a  murderer.  Then  he  tiptoed  feebly,  after 
one  or  two  ineffectual  efforts,  to  his  father's  room, 
which  overlooked  the  scene  of  the  battle  ;  it  might 
be  that  the  doctor  had  reached  the  wounded  boy  in 
time  to  staunch  the  flow  of  blood  before  it  was 
eternally  too  late.  From  the  window,  Jack,  with 
great  astonishment  and  not  entirely  without  disgust, 
beheld  the  rowdy  sauntering  away  with  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  while  beside  hirrr  walked  the  doctor, 
violently  shaking  his  fist  and  head  at  the  beaten 
man,  and  filling  the  air  with  threats  which  a  breeze 
wafted  back  to  Jack. 


YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS.  123 

The  surprise  was  too  much  for  Jack's  nerves ;  he 
dropped  upon  his  father's  bed  and  doubted  whether 
he  ever  would  regain  his  breath  again  ;  then  he  be 
moaned  the  loss  of  the  vagabond  life  which  had 
been  just  within  his  grasp,  and  which  is  the  ideal  of 
every  boy  at  a  certain  period  of  his  life.  From  this 
he  was  recovered  by  the  thought  that,  after  all,  nice 
little  Mattie  Barker  was  not  to  be  entirely  a  mem 
ory  of  the  past.  His  eye  and  nose  finally  obtruded 
themselves  upon  his  attention,  and  very  unsightly 
objects  they  were  in  a  mirror ;  he  hoped  nice  little 
Mattie  Barker  would  not  see  him  until  his  face  re 
gained  its  natural  appearance ;  and  he  would  cer 
tainly  take  care  never  to  have  himself  so  disfigured 
again. 

Then  his  father  returned,  hastily  searched  the 
house  for  Jack,  caught  him  in  his  arms,  and  actually 
cried  over  him,  upon  which  the  boy  felt  himself  a 
hero  indeed.  But  when  his  father  assured  him  that 
his  latest  exploit  would  have  a  wonderful  effect  in 
keeping  boys  away  from  him,  Jack  did  not  seem  so 
elated  as  the  doctpr^would  have  had  him  ;  he  looked 
so  solemn  that  the  doctor  asked  what  the  matter 
was,  and  Jack  burst  out  crying,  and  answered  : 

"  I'm  so  dreadfully  lonety  all  the  time." 


124  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

The  doctor  started  to  ask  if  either  he  or  his  wife 
were  not  always  at  home,  but  recalling  the  drift  of 
a  previous  conversation  on  the  same  topic,  he  grew 
suddenly  very  cool  and  undemonstrative  and  re 
moved  himself,  whereupon  Jack,  who  read  the  hu 
man  face  as  correctly  as  boys  usually  do,  waxed 
angry,  and  lost  sight  of  all  his  principles,  as  every 
one  does  in  anger,  and  determined  that  if  he  could 
not  have  fun  with  the  boys  he  would  have  it  with 
out  them,  and  have  all  he  wanted,  too. 

He  did  not  lose  much  time  in  discovering  a  way 
of  amusing  himself.  August  had  worked  through 
into  September,  and  though  the  public  was  to  have 
no  opportunity  of  disarranging  national  affairs  at 
the  ballot-box  that  autumn,  a  gubernatorial  cam 
paign  had  opened  most  vigorously  in  the  State  of 
which  Doveton  considered  itself  the  mainstay. 
The  rival  candidates  were  Baggs  and  Puttytop,  and 
though  both  were  men  of  fair  intellect  and  reputa 
tion,  as  politicians  go,  and  the  adult  mind  could 
find  but  little  reason  to  distinguish  between  them, 
the  boys  of  Doveton,  who  never  for  a  moment 
doubted  that  they  were  in  perfect  sympathy  with 
the  inner  sense  of  statesmanship,  and  knew  the 
constitutional  rights  and  special  needs  of  Doveton 


YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS.  12$ 

beside,  were,  to  a  man,  for  Baggs.  Jack  had  gained 
this  precious  bit  of  information  from  Matt,  so  he 
promptly  ranged  himself,  mentally,  with  his  natural 
allies,  and  sought  for  means  to  discourage  the 
Puttytop  adherents,  who  stupidly  saw  not  though 
they  had  eyes,  and  heard  not  though  they  had 
ears. 

Just  then  an  announcement  was  made  that  the 
famous  General  Twitchwire,  who  was  stumping  the 
state  for  Puttytop,  would  address  the  sovereign 
voters  of  Doveton  in  the  main  room  of  the  county 
court  house,  on  the  evening  of  the  second  Wed 
nesday  in  September,  the  regular  fall  session  of 
the  county  court  having  begun  on  the  morning  of 
the  same  day,  and  the  town  being  full  of  country 
men  who  had  legal  grievances  of  their  own,  or  of 
some  one  else,  to  look  to. 

Now  the  county  court  house  was  a  new  build 
ing  which  the  demon  of  improvement  had  lately 
caused  to  be  erected,  and  as  the  appropriations  had 
been  exhausted  in  the  manner  not  unknown  to  po 
litical  managers  elsewhere,  the  main  room  was  the 
only  one  which  had  been  completed.  Pipes  had 
been  laid  for  gas,  one  of  them  terminating  in  the 
ceiling  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  but  for  evening 


126  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

meetings  it  was,  at  present,  necessary  to  light  lamps 
or  candles.  So,  early  in  the  afternoon  preceding 
the  Puttytop  meeting,  Jack  secreted  himself  in  an 
upper  room  of  the  court  house,  with  a  monkey- 
wrench,  a  gunmaker's  saw,  and  a  yard  of  rubber 
tubing  in  his  shirt  bosom.  He  dragged  a  step  lad 
der  down  into  the  main  room,  and  standing  upon 
this  he  wrenched  from  its  place  the  cap  upon  the 
pipe  from  which  the  central  chandelier  was  one  day 
to  hang.  Then  he  returned  to  the  room  above,  sawed 
in  two  the  pipe  which  was  to  feed  the  chandelier, 
stretched  an  end  of  his  rubber  tube  over  the  lower 
portion  of  severed  pipe,  and  yelled  through  it  to 
test  the  apparatus.  He  heard  his  cry  repeated  in 
the  lower  room  so  distinctly  that  his  only  fear  was 
that  somebody  outside  might  hear  it.  Then  he  sat 
upon  the  floor,  munched  crackers,  wished  that  he 
had  a  drink  of  water,  and  waited. 

Evening  came  at  last,  and  from  the  edges  of  the 
window  casings,  Jack  saw  the  adherents  of  Putty- 
top  coming  from  various  directions.  From  the 
neighborhood  of  the  hotel  came  the  noise  of  the 
Doveton  Brass  Band  playing  "  Hail  to  the  Chief ;  " 
this  indicated  that  the  famous  General  Twitchwire 
was  to  be  escorted  in  style  to  the  court  house, 


YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS.  I2/ 

and  Jack  lamented  that  he  could  not  be  outside, 
behind  some  good  board  fence,  to  throw  stones  at 
the  band,  but  he  recalled  the  line, 

"  They  also  serve  who  stand  and  wait," 

from  the  Sixth  Reader,  and  was  nobly  sustained 
thereby.  Then  the  sound  of  the  music  came 
nearer,  the  band  playing 

"  The  Campbells  are  coming," 

and  then  Jack  saw  a  transparency,  and  yet  another, 
and  it  required  every  word  of  his  comforting  line 
to  support  him  in  his  privation.  A  tremendous 
hubbub  in  the  room  below  came  up  through  the 
gas  pipe  and  rubber  tube,  and  Jack  applied  his 
ear  to  the  latter  to  hear  what  General  Twitch- 
wire  might  endeavor  to  delude  his  hearers  into 
believing. 

The  address  began  on  time,  and  General  Twitch- 
wire  had  just  informed  his  audience  that  if  through 
supineness  and  lack  of  concerted  action  the  guberna 
torial  chair  became  occupied,  he  would  not  say 
filled,  by  a  person  with  the  deficient  mental  acumen 
and  erroneous  views,  which  characterized  the  person 
who  was  the  standard-bearer  of  the  party  opposed 
to  good  government,  the  consequence  could  not  fail 


128  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

to  be  most  disastrous — when  a  distant  yet  loud  voice 
was  heard  to  exclaim, — 

"  You  don't  say  !  " 

The  speaker  glared  angrily  about,  and  the  chair 
man  of  the  meeting,  who  had  taken  the  precaution 
to  arrange  that  admission  should  be  only  by  tickets 
of  a  peculiar  color,  wondered  whether  counterfeit 
tickets  had  been  imposed  upon  the  doorkeeper. 
The  general  resumed  the  thread  of  his  discourse, 
and  had  just  pronounced  a  glowing  eulogium  upon 
Puttytop,  when  a  voice  exclaimed  : 

"  Hang  Puttytop  !     Give  us  a  man  !  " 

Then  the  sheriff  and  two  constables,  all  of  whom 
were  Puttytop  men,  began  suspiciously  to  scan  the 
audience.  But  not  a  Baggs  adherent  could  they 
see,  except  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel,  to  whom  it 
was  well  known  that  a  frequenter  of  Gripp's  rum- 
shop  had  sold  a  ticket  for  ten  cents,  the  inducement 
offered  being  that  the  meeting  would  close  with  a 
lottery,  in  which  every  ticket  holder  would  be  en 
titled  to  a  prize  of  some  sort.  But  Nuderkopf, 
judging  by  his  snores,  was  slumbering  soundly  ;  be 
sides,  the  disturbing  voice  used  a  better  English 
accent  than  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel  could  ever  be 
suspected  of  acquiring. 


•YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS. 

Several  other  remarks  of  the  speaker  were  greeted 
with  derisive  yells  through  Jack's  speaking  tube, 
and  the  famous  General  Twitchvvire  took  occasion 
to  remark,  with  a  great  display  of  offended  dignity, 
that  if  the  authorities  could  not  suppress  such  dis 
turbers  it  was  pretty  certain  that  the  party  in  Dove- 
ton  was  upon  its  last  legs. 

"Gott  macht  es ! "  (God  grant!)  shouted  Jack 
down  the  pipe. 

This  seemed  to  offer  a  clue  to  the  offender.  The 
language  was  certainly  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel's, 
and  he  was  positively  the  only  Baggs  man  present, 
so  the  sheriff  and  the  two  constables  dashed  at  him 
and  rudely  aroused  him.  It  was  the  only  evening 
meeting,  except  some  of  a  religious  character,  which 
Nuderkopf  had  attended  during  his  residence  in 
Doveton ;  he  had  frequently  to  be  aroused  in 
church ;  he  was  very  religious  and  musically  in 
clined  ;  the  force  of  association  caused  him  to  im 
agine  he  was  in  church ;  the  silence  to  indicate  a 
temporary  and  dangerous  stagnation  of  religious 
service,  so  he  cleared  his  throat  and  successfully 
launched  the  first  line  of  a  devotional  song  before 
he  opened  his  eyes,  when  a  rude  hand  was  clapped 
over  his  mouth  and  another  was  applied  with  great 


I3O  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

force  to  the  side  of  his  head,  and  then  he  was 
pulled  at  and  dragged,  and  finally  lifted  over  the 
back  of  his  seat,  which  happened  to  be  the  last 
bench  of  the  jury  box,  and  was  dropped  out  of 
the  window,  landing  on  the  sidewalk  three  feet  be 
low,  in  a  state  of  confusion  which  bordered  upon 
imbecility. 

This  was  too  much  for  such  of  Nuderkopfs  re 
ligious  associates  as  were  there  present,  even  al 
though  they  were  Puttytop  men,  so  they  arose  to 
points  of  order,  several  of  them  speaking  at  a  time, 
and  they  were  rebuked  by  the  chair,  and  hooted  at 
by  the  rowdies,  who  always  infested  political  meet 
ings  ;  and  one  excitable  German  cast  an  opprobrious 
epithet  at  a  conspicuous  rowdy,  and  the  rowdy  re 
torted  by  snatching  a  transparency  from  a  bearer 
and  throwing  it  lancewise  at  the  German,  and  the 
cloth  caught  fire,  and  a  general  yell  ensued,  and 
everybody  looked  out  for  number  one,  with  the 
result  of  making  number  two  of  everybody  else, 
and  the  famous  General  Twitchwire  stepped  sud 
denly  to  a  window  and  jumped  out,  and  the  sheriff 
and  the  two  constables  bawled  "  order  "  until  they 
were  themselves  their  only  auditors,  and  a  body  of 
quiet  but  observant  Baggs  men  in  the  window  of  a 


YOUNG    AMERICA    IN    POLITICS.  13! 

house  directly  opposite,  agreed  with  each  other  that 
the  Puttytop  ticket  didn't  seem  to  be  looking  up  so 
very  much,  after  all. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME. 

WHEN  Jack  finally  left  his  hiding  place  in  the 
court  room,  it  was  with  a  pretty  distinct 
conviction  that  no  one  would  ever  discover  his 
secret,  and  that  the  evil  of  this  life  seemed  as  ruth 
less  in  its  pursuit  of  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel  as  in 
his  own  case.  Then  there  slowly  developed  within 
him  the  thought  that  Nuderkopf,  who  had  been  the 
principal  sufferer  by  the  trick  of  the  speaking-tube, 
was  not  even  a  member  of  the  despised  Puttytop 
faction ;  so  Jack,  like  many  another  mischief-maker 
who  injures  some  one  of  whom  he  had  never  thought 
while  planning  his  departures  from  rectitude,  sought 
refuge  from  his  conscience  by  plunging  into  gloomy 
reverie  upon  the  fateful  lack  of  sequence  in  earthly 
affairs. 

Not  the  least  of  his  troubles  was  the  fact  that, 
whereas  in  other  days  he  might  have  called  all  the 
boys  in  town  together  and  told  them  the  story  of 

132 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME,  133 

his  effort  to  purify  the  State  government,  and  de 
lighted  his  soul  over  their  enjoyment  of  it,  he  could 
now  tell  it  only  to  Matt,  who,  while  a  very  true 
friend,  had  not  as  keen  a  sense  of  the  ludicrous  as 
Jack  could  have  desired.  Still,  one  hearer  would 
be  better  than  none,  and  Jack  wondered  whether  it 
might  not  yet  be  early  enough  for  him  to  hurry 
to  Matt's  house  and  impart  the  delicious  story, 
when  suddenly,  to  his  great  delight,  he  met  Matt 
himself. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  "  asked  Matt,  "  I've  been 
over  by  your  house  whistling  for  you  for  the  past 
hour.  And  the  loveliest  thing — oh,  my !  Will 
Pinkshaw  has  learned  a  new  game  of  cards  — 
poker,  they  call  it,  and  it's  splendid.  Gamblers  play 
it  for  money,  but  it's  just  as  much  fun  to  bet  but 
tons,  or  beans,  or  corn-grains,  or  anything.  Will 
and  I  have  been  playing  it  in  the  moonlight,  by 
your  side  fence,  ever  since  dark,  and  we  must  have 
played  a  hundred  games." 

"  It  isn't  too  late  for  me  to  learn,  is  it  ?  "  said  Jack. 
"The  moon  will  shine  all  night." 

"  Oh,  somebody  might  come  along,"  protested 
Matt.  "  The  constables  prowl  around  after  ten 
o'clock,  you  know." 


134  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  Then  let's  go  into  the  stable  and  get  on  the  hay 
under  the  big  window,"  said  Jack.  "  The  moon 
shines  in  there — nice  soft  seat,  out  of  sight — every 
thing." 

"  But  we  haven't  any  cards,"  said  Matt. 

"  Then  borrow  Will  Pinkshaw's,"  said  Jack. 
"You  bring  'em  up  to  the  stable — you  know  the 
way — and  I'll  have  a  handful  of  corn  ready,  and 
we'll  have  a  jolly  quiet  game  for  a  little  while." 

Matt  was  nothing  loth  to  act  upon  this  sugges 
tion,  for  new  games  with  cards — or  anything  else — 
have  a  way  of  utterly  enthralling  the  juvenile  mind. 
Within  ten  minutes  he  was  back  with  the  cards, 
but  their  owner  had  refused  to  loan  the  precious 
pasteboards  unless  they  were  accompanied  by  him 
self,  and  Jack  experienced  a  great  though  secret 
joy  that  without  his  own  direct  agency  he  was 
brought  into  company  with  a  boy  other  than  Matt, 
and  at  a  place  somewhat  different  from  the  Sunday 
School  where  alone  he  had  fraternized  with  boys 
during  the  month.  The  modus  operandi  of  the 
game  was  speedily  made  known  to  Jack,  the  corn 
was  scrupulously  divided  into  three  equal  portions, 
and  the  play  began.  Jack  had  not  read  Hoyle,  so 
perhaps  it  was  the  devil,  who  is  said  to  be  par- 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME.  135 

ticularly  encouraging  to  green  players,  that  decided 
nearly  every  game  in  Jack's  favor.  Matt  was  soon 
"  busted,"  and  meekly  borrowed  twenty  grains  of 
corn  from  the  winner,  but  the  Pinkshaw  twin,  who 
had  bet  no  more  carefully  than  Matt,  remained 
financially  equal  to  his  engagements. 

Jack  began  to  wonder  whether  the  Pinkshaw 
twin  might  not  have  sold  his  soul  to  the  devil,  like 
some  gambler  he  had  read  of  whose  money  was 
magically  reproduced  as  fast  as  he  lost  it.  The 
thought  caused  him  to  fix  his  eye  upon  the  Pink 
shaw  twin  as  if  he  had  been  fascinated  by  him,  and 
soon  he  discovered  that  the  arch-adversary  of  souls 
operated  from  the  heart  of  the  owner  of  the  unfail 
ing  pile,  for  the  Pinkshaw  twin,  who  had  been  pre- 
informed  of  the  currency  to  be  used,  was  seen  to 
slyly  take  some  corn  from  his  pocket  and  lay  it 
upon  his  pile. 

In  an  instant  a  sharp  quarrel  ensued,  the  Pink 
shaw  twin  lying  most  industriously  and  displaying 
an  empty  pocket  in  evidence,  but  a  careful  exami 
nation  of  Jack's  winnings  showed  that  many  grains 
of  sweet  corn  were  among  them,  whereas  there  was 
no  such  grain  in  the  bin  from  which  Jack  had  sup 
plied  the  general  exchequer.  So  the  Pinkshaw 


136  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

twin  sullenly  confessed,  and  pleaded  that  playing 
for  corn-grains  was  no  fun,  anyhow,  for  a  fellow 
couldn't  do  anything  with  them  after  he  had  won 
them  ;  he  therefore  proposed  that  the  party  should 
play  for  buttons. 

"  Where  will  we  get  them  ?  "  asked  Matt. 

"  Cut  off  the  suspender  buttons  on  our  trowsers," 
suggested  the  Pinkshaw  twin.  "  Neither  of  you 
fellows  wear  galluses,  do  you  ?  " 

The  suggestion  was  acted  upon,  and  the  volume 
of  currency  being  somewhat  limited,  the  betting 
proceeded  quite  cautiously.  But  luck  was  still 
against  the  Pinkshaw  twin,  so,  desperately  remark 
ing  that  his  jacket  was  an  old  one,  he  removed  the 
buttons  from  that  garment  also.  And  still  he  lost, 
so  he  attacked  his  shirt  front,  although  Matt  sug 
gested  that  shirt  buttons  were  hardly  big  enough  to 
bet  with.  These  same  went  the  way  of  the  others, 
and  then  the  Pinkshaw  twin,  realizing  that  no  one 
would  see  him  on  his  way  home,  denuded  his 
trowsers  of  all  the  remaining  buttons,  and  tied  a 
string  around  his  waist  to  hold  the  garments  up. 
Losing  these,  he  pledged  his  pocket  knife  to  Jack 
for  ten  buttons,  with  the  privilege  of  redemption 
within  twenty-four  hours.  Then,  when  he  wanted 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME.  137 

to  "  raise  "  handsomely  on  "  two  pair,"  he  had 
nothing  to  do  it  with,  Jack  declining  to  lend  any 
thing  whatever  on  the  miserable  security  of  a  dirty 
handkerchief,  so  he  offered  to  bet  his  pack  of  cards 
as  fifty  buttons,  and  Jack  agreed,  and  calmly  dis 
played  "  three  of  a  kind  "  and  the  Pinkshaw  twin 
was  a  ruined  gamester. 

The  Pinkshaw  twin  had  been  accumulating  a 
large  stock  of  bad  temper,  however,  as  the  game 
progressed,  and  of  this  he  partially  divested  him 
self,  as  the  party  arose,  by  striking  Jack  a  heavy 
blow  between  the  eyes.  Over  went  Jack,  back 
ward,  upon  some  hay  which  inclined  downward ; 
away  he  rolled,  until  stopped  by  bringing  up  sud 
denly  against  the  shelving  roof ;  there  he  found 
himself  upon  one  of  those  unreasonable  hens  who 
persist  in  stealing  a  nest  late  in  the  season,  and 
"  setting "  thereupon  with  maternal  instincts,  the 
end  of  which  is  never  calculated  in  advance.  The 
hen  naturally  protested,  in  the  loud  manner  which 
is  said  to  be  an  attribute  of  her  sex  in  general,  and 
as  Jack  was  slow  in  changing  his  position,  she  con 
tinued  to  protest,  and  then  Jack  heard  the  house 
door  open  and  his  father  hurry  down  the  back 
steps,  probably  in  search  of  chicken  thieves,  the 
which  abounded  in  Doveton. 


138  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  The  other  window  !  "  whispered  Jack  hurriedly. 
All  three  of  the  boys  scrambled  to  it,  and  jumped 
out,  the  Pinkshaw  twin  becoming  somewhat  in 
volved  with  his  trowsers,  the  string  securing  them 
having  broken.  He  soon  scampered  off,  however, 
holding  his  clothing  together  as  he  ran  ;  Matt's  re 
treating  footsteps  were  already  inaudible,  while 
Jack,  hurrying  around  to  the  front  gate  and  tiptoe 
ing  up  the  back  stair  and  through  the  open  door, 
was  in  his  room  and  in  bed  before  he  realized  that 
his  jacket,  upon  which  he  had  been  sitting,  had  been 
left  behind.  Just  then  the  clock  struck  two,  but 
Jack  determined  promptly  that  the  old  timepiece 
must  be  out  of  order,  as  it  frequently  was. 

He  had  the  cards,  though,  and  they  were  irrevo 
cably  his,  and  to  be  one  of  the  only  two  or  three 
boys  in  town  who  possessed  property  the  sale  of 
which  was  prohibited  by  law,  was  glory  enough  to 
have  acquired  in  one  night,  even  at  the  expense  of 
a  blow  in  the  face.  With  their  possession,  how 
ever,  he  had  also  acquired  responsibility :  his 
mother  might  be  suddenly  moved  to  "look  over" 
his  clothing  before  breakfast,  as  she  frequently  did 
when  intent  upon  repairs  ;  or  the  doctor  might  search 
his  pockets,  as  he  occasionally  had  done,  in  search 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME.  139 

of  something  that  would  explain  the  extreme  quiet 
which,  once  in  a  while,  characterized  Jack.  So  the 
boy  got  out  of  bed,  and  put  the  cards  and  the  Pink- 
shaw  twin's  knife  into  one  of  his  stockings,  and  hid 
them  under  his  pillow. 

Jack  listened  for  his  father's  return  until  he  was 
drowsy  and  he  finally  went  to  sleep  and  fell  instant 
ly  into  a  dream  of  hearing  a  great  army,  with  con 
fused  trampling,  pass  by  him  on  some  road  in  which 
he  could  not  view  them,  and  then  that  the  army  en 
gaged  in  battle  with  some  other  army,  shouting  and 
screaming  fitfully,  and  firing  great  guns  spasmodi 
cally,  and  then  there  was  a  terrific  crash,  and  a  gen 
eral  roar,  and  the  armies  and  the  dream  sank  into 
nothingness,  and  Jack  knew  nothing  more  until 
aroused  by  the  breakfast  bell.  He  was  very  drowsy 
as  he  arose,  but  he  remembered  that  it  was  the 
morning  for  the  regular  semi-weekly  change  of 
stockings,  so  he  clothed  himself  and  descended  to 
breakfast  to  find  his  father  very  silent  and  his 
mother  overflowing  with  the  sad  fact  that  during 
the  night  the  stable  had  burned  to  the  ground  and 
the  doctor  had  barely  saved  his  horse,  carriage  and 
harness. 

Jack  was  greatly  affected  by  the  information,  and 


I4O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

recurred  to  his  wonder  whether  the  devil  in  person 
might  not  have  been  helping  the  Pinkshaw  twin 
after  all.  Certainly,  they,  the  players,  had  struck  no 
light.  After  a  slight  breakfast  Jack  hurried  out  to 
view  the  remains,  but  the  doctor  was  on  the  ground 
before  him,  and  was  holding  up  a  partly  burned 
jacket,  which  he  was  inspecting  with  great  care. 

"  Jack  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor. 

"Sir?"  answered  Jack,  most  courteously. 

"  I  threw  this  out  of  the  window  last  night,  hav 
ing  found  it  on  the  hay,  just  where  the  fire  began. 
There  are  charred  matches  in  the  pockets.  How 
did  that  jacket  get  there  ?  " 

"  I  left  it  there  yesterday,"  said  Jack.  "  I  was  up 
there  yesterday,  lying  about,  and  it  was  so  warm 
that  I  took  off  my  jacket." 

"  And  sat  on  it,  I  suppose,  and  wriggled  around 
on  it  and  ignited  the  matches,  and  burned  down  my 
stable.  Couldn't  you  have  set  fire  to  the  house, 
too,  while  you  were  about  it,  so  as  to  have  ruined 
me  completely  ?  " 

Jack  rightly  considered  this  a  very  cruel  speech, 
but  he  hung  his  head. 

Among  the  many  bystanders,  attracted  by  a 
rarity  such  a  fire  generally  is  in  a  village,  was  the 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME.  141 

gunsmith,  and  as  he  gazed  upon  the  many  bits  of 
portable  property  which  had  been  thrown  from  the 
burning  stable,  his  eye  fell  upon  something  familiar, 
and  he  picked  up  the  saw  which  Jack  had  used  on 
the  court-house  gas  pipe  ;  examining  it  hastily, 
he  exclaimed : 

"  Why,  here  is  my  own  saw,  which  I  had  such  a 
long  hunt  for  yesterday  afternoon." 

"  I  just  borrowed  it  while  you  were  out,"  ex 
plained  Jack.  "  I  was  going  to  bring  it  back  this 
morning  and  tell  you  about  it." 

"What  did  you  want  of  such  a  tool?"  demanded 
the  doctor. 

"  I  wanted  to  saw  a  piece  of  iron,"  said  Jack, 
with  downcast  eyes. 

"  Who's  been  cutting  the  hose  of  my  carriage 
sprinkler?"  asked  the  doctor,  suddenly  espying  the 
yard  of  rubber  pipe,  which  Jack  had  fondly  sup 
posed  would  never  be  missed  from  the  long  coil 
from  which  he  had  cut  it. 

WThile   Jack  was  casting  about  in  his  mind    for 
some  plausible  excuse,  he  heard,  to  his  unspeaka 
ble  relief,  his  mother  shouting  from  the  back  door: 
"  Doctor,  doctor,  come  here  right  away !     Don't 
wait  a  single  minute." 


I42  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

The  doctor  obeyed  the  summons,  and  Jack  was 
consoling  himself  with  the  thought  that  the 
monkey  wrench,  which  belonged  to  the  stable, 
could  not  tell  tales  about  him,  and  the  hen,  if  still 
alive,  could  not  talk  English,  when  the  doctor's 
well-known  voice  struck  terror  to  his  soul  by  ex 
claiming  loudly  : 

"  Jack,  come  here  !  " 

Jack  went  into  the  house,  and  was  confronted  by 
the  father  of  the  Pinkshaw  twins,  who  had  brought 
a  buttonless  coat  and  a  pair  of  trousers  as  evidence 
of  the  truth  of  his  boy's  statement  that  Jack  had 
fought  with  him,  knocked  him  down,  and  cut  the 
buttons  from  his  clothes  out  of  simple  malice.  (It 
may  be  remarked,  in  passing,  that  the  Pinkshaw 
twin  had  shrewdly  determined  that  Jack  would 
rather  be  unjustly  punished  on  such  a  charge  than 
confess  the  truth.) 

"You  needn't  deny  it,"  said  Mr.  Pinkshaw;  "  my 
boys  always  tell  the  truth."  (N.  B.  Everybody's 
boys  do.)  "  I'll  warrant  you  have  the  buttons  in 
your  pocket  now,  saving  them  up  until  next  mar 
ble  time,  when  you'll  play  them  away." 

"Jack,"  said  the  doctor,  "empty    your  pockets.  ' 

Jack  had  not  the  strength  to  resist  or  devise  any 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME.  143 

way  of  reducing,  without  exposure,  the  protrusion 
of  that  one  of  his  pockets  which  held  the  buttons. 
How  he  wished  that  the  lately  despised  shirt  but 
tons,  so  small,  so  insignificant,  had  constituted  the 
whole  body  of  the  previous  evening's  currency,  in 
stead  of  its  being  inflated  by  the  huge  papier- 
mache  sailor  buttons  from  the  Pinkshaw  twin's 
jacket. 

The  doctor  came  rudely  to  his  assistance,  how 
ever,  and  soon  the  floor  was  covered  with  buttons, 
to  the  identity  of  most  of  which  Mr.  Pinkshaw 
could  swear. 

"  My  boy  says  Jack  stole  his  knife,  too,"  said  Mr. 
Pinkshaw. 

"  I  didn't !  "  vehemently  protested  Jack,  and  a 
close  search  failed  to  prove  that  Jack  spoke  un 
truly.  Just  then  the  Wittingham  servant  came  to 
the  door,  holding  aloft  in  one  hand  a  stocking  and 
in  the  other  a  dirty  pack  of  cards  and  the  knife, 
exclaiming : 

"  The  loike  av  this  was  undher  masther  Jack's 
pillow,  ma'am." 

"  That's  my  boy's  knife  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Pink 
shaw. 

"  Arc  the  cards  his,  too  ?  "  asked  the  doctor.  "  I 
hope  so,  for  the  sake  of  Jack's  back." 


144  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  They  were  his,"  said  Jack,  determining  that  all 
hope  for  concealment  was  past.  "  I  won  them 
from  him  at  poker,  and  won  the  knife  and  the  but 
tons  too." 

"  It's  a  lie  !  "  shouted  Mr.  Pinkshaw.  "  My  boys 
have  their  faults,  but  they  never  gamble." 

"  Ask  Matt  Bolton,  if  you  don't  believe  me," 
said  Jack. 

The  doctor  looked  as  fixedly  at  Jack  as  if  he  were 
trying  to  discern  rudimentary  horns,  hoofs  and  tail. 
Then  he  arose  suddenly,  seized  Jack,  thrust  him 
into  his  room,  muttered  something  about  bread  and 
water  for  a  week ;  then  the  old  man  fell  upon  his 
knees,  and  besought  the  Lord  for  guidance  as  ear 
nestly  as  many  another  person  has  done  after  ne 
glecting  to  use  any  of  his  heaven-given  sense  and 
opportunity  for  the  control  of  lively  children. 

As  for  Jack,  he  sat  moodily  down  upon  a  chair, 
and  formed  at  least  one  resolution,  to  which  he 
had  long  been  urged  :  If  he  ever  gained  his  liberty 
again,  he  would  never,  never,  never,  on  clean  stock 
ing  day,  leave  his  dirty  stockings  lying  about  for 
some  one  else  to  pick  up. 

And  on  the  evening  of  that  day  the  doctor  pored 
over  the  skeleton  of  his  intended  book  on  heredity, 


A    QUIET    LITTLE    GAME.  145 

but  the  best  he  could  do  was  to  devise  a  chapter 
head,  and  even  this  was  quoted  from  another  book 
containing  some  excellent  hints  upon  heredity  : 

"  When  the  unclean  spirit  leaveth  a  man,"  etc. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

SWEET    SOLACE  . 

JACK  was  willing  to  live  on  bread  and  water  for 
a  week  ;  he  would  have  acknowledged  the  jus 
tice  of  any  penalty  short  of  death,  for  the  burning 
of  the  stable  would  not  appear  to  him  other  than  a 
dreadful  calamity  for  which  he  was  primarily  respon 
sible.  He  did  not  mean  anything  wrong,  to  be  sure, 
when  he  designated  the  stable  as  the  place  for  the 
game,  but  it  began  to  seem  to  him  that  what  one 
meant  or  did  not  mean  was  of  very  little  conse 
quence  when  he  made  any  departures  from  the 
beaten  path  of  rectitude.  He  had  not  put  matches  in 
his  pocket  for  the  sake  of  burning  the  stable  ;  he  had 
meant  nothing  wrong  by  sitting  on  his  jacket  that 
night — he  had  only  done  so  that  he  might  be  cooler, 
and  that  it  might  prevent  the  sharp  stalks  of  hay 
from  protruding  so  successfully  through  his  thin 
trowsers.  He  could  not  foresee  that  the  Pinkshaw 
twin — hang  him  ! — would  get  angry,  and  stamp  over 

146 


SWEET    SOLACE.  147 

that  coat  as  he  struck  the  winner — for  that  was  un 
doubtedly  the  time,  when,  under  the  crunching  of 
the  Pinkshaw  shoe-heel,  the  matches  were  ignited. 
Why  couldn't  the  old  jacket  have  burned  up,  instead 
of  remaining  to  tell  tales?  What  could  have 
brought  the  gunmaker,  usually  so  industrious,  to 
view  so  uninteresting  an  object  as  a  burned  stable, 
and  how  came  he  to  walk  just  where  he  could 
espy  his  own  saw?  Why  should  the  doctor  have 
assumed,  at  sight,  that  the  yard  of  hose  had  been 
cut  from  his  own  carriage  sprinkler  ?  And  why  had 
the  whole  affair  happened  on  the  evening  preceding 
clean  stocking  day? 

"  Morality  is  the  order  of  things."  Jack  may 
never  have  heard  this  saying,  but  he  became  slowly 
of  an  opinion  which  embodied  the  same  idea,  and 
he  determined  upon  a  reformation  which  should 
leave  nothing  to  be  desired  in  point  of  thorough 
ness.  He  would  not  say  anything  about  it  to 
his  father  and  mother,  but  he  would  let  the 
truth  burst  upon  them  of  its  own  irresistible  force 
some  day.  He  had  his  doubts  as  to  whether  an  an 
nouncement  of  his  resolution  would  have  any  par 
ticular  effect  any  way,  for  his  parents  had  heard 
something  of  the  sort  before,  without  beholding  any 


148  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

particular  fruition  thereof.  He  would  give  up  every 
single  pleasure  which  could  not  be  justified  by  the 
Bible  itself.  .  His  issue  of  veracity  with  the  Pink- 
shaw  twin  came  to  his  mind,  with  the  suggestion 
that  the  only  boyish  method  of  settling  such  affairs 
was  hardly  consistent  with  the  nature  of  his  good 
resolutions.  Still,  had  not  Ananias  and  Sapphira 
been  struck  dead  for  lying? — surely  to  give  the 
Pinkshaw  twin  a  sound  drubbing  would  not  only  be 
excusable  but  necessary,  as  a  matter  of  moral  duty. 
Had  not  Mr.  Daybright  himself  preached  a  sermon 
to  prove  that  every  man  was,  morally,  his  broth 
er's  keeper,  and  was  not  lying  positively  forbidden 
by  one  of  the  Ten  Commandments  ? 

As  for  the  stable,  Jack  determined  that  the 
first  thousand  dollars  he  earned  when  he  became 
a  man  should  be  given  to  his  father  to  compensate 
for  the  loss  of  the  building  and  its  contents.  The 
building  cost  but  little  more  than  half  that  sum, 
but  the  interest  which  would  accumulate  in  six  or 
seven  years  would  bring  the  loss  up  to  the  amount 
determined  upon,  and  Jack  was  determined  to  be 
honest  to  the  last  penny.  And  if  the  Pinkshaw 
twin  was  any  sort  of  a  fellow  when  he  became  a 
man — though  from  present  appearances  this  seemed 


SWEET    SOLACE.  149 

improbable — he  would  see  the  justice  of  providing 
the  money  himself,  for  he  had  had  no  moral  right 
to  get  angry  at  the  result  of  fair  play,  particularly 
after  having  been  himself  detected  in  the  act  of 
cheating.  Jack  determined  to  reason  calmly  with 
the  Pinkshaw  twin  on  this  subject — after  the  other 
settlement  had  been  made,  of  course. 

Then  Jack  began  to  realize  that  he  had  eaten  a 
very  light  breakfast,  and  that  the  smell  of  boiling 
and  roasting  and  baking  which  was  wafted  up  from 
the  kitchen  was  particularly  tantalizing  to  a  fellow 
who  had  to  dine  on  plain  bread.  But  even  this  se 
rious  thought  was  overborne  by  a  graver  one  which 
came  suddenly  to  his  mind  :  could  nice  little  Mattie 
Barker  ever  bring  herself  to  love  a  gambler  who  had 
burned  down  a  stable — his  own  father's  stable,  too  ? 
This  was  too  great  an  agony  to  be  endured — he 
could  give  up  his  darling  sins,  but  nice  little  Mattie 
Barker  was  a  darling  of  a  different  kind.  Some 
thing  ought  to  be  done,  and  that  very  promptly,  to 
disabuse  Mattie's  mind  of  the  erroneous  reports 
which  would  be  sure  to  reach  the  young  lady's  ears, 
but  what  could  it  be  ?  He  might  write  to  her  the 
plain,  unvarnished  tale  of  the  affair,  but  that  would 
have  t<3  admit  that  he  had  gambled,  and  which 


ISO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

would  Mattie  be  likely  to  dislike  most — a  possible 
incendiary  or  a  confessed  gambler? 

Suddenly,  to  Jack's  great  relief,  there  entered 
Matt,  whom  Mr.  Wittingham  had  failed  to  realize 
had  been  a  participator  in  the  irregularities  which 
led  to  the  destruction  of  the  barn.  To  him  Jack 
explained  the  situation  regarding  the  stable,  and  a 
right  doleful  time  the  two  boys  had  together  until 
Jack  remembered  that  he  had  not  yet  informed  his 
bosom-friend  of  the  affair  with  the  political  meet 
ing.  Jack  endeavored  to  recount  the  incidents 
thereof  in  the  light  of  his  new  resolutions,  but 
Matt's  hilarity  became  speedily  contagious,  and 
within  a  scant  ten  minutes  Jack  detected  himself, 
to  his  great  horror,  in  the  act  of  framing  a  revised 
and  enlarged  order  of  disturbances  for  the  next  great 
Puttytop  meeting,  which  would  take  place  in  about 
a  fortnight,  and  was  arranging  that  Matt,  whom  he 
had  half  an  hour  before  vowed  to  lead  into  right 
ways,  should  blow  torpedoes  at  the  speaker  through 
the  open  windows  from  a  long  tube  which  Jack 
would  have  made  for  the  purpose. 

Then  nice  little  Mattie  Barker  came  to  mind  dur 
ing  a  lull  in  the  conversation,  love  being  merely 
secondary  to  action,  as  it  is  in  most  other' restless 


SWEET    SOLACE.  15! 

natures,  and  Jack,  not  without  some  confusion  and 
halting  of  speech,  informed  Matt  that  he  was  in 
love. 

"  Why,  are  you  sure  ?  "  asked  Matt. 

"  It's  a  dead  sure  thing,"  declared  Jack. 

"Dear  me!"  ejaculated  Matt. 

"  Dear  Mattie  Barker !  "  exclaimed  Jack,  and  in 
stantly  his  countenance  ran  through  the  whole  chro 
matic  scale  of  facial  expression,  and  then  dropped 
low,  perhaps  to  rest  from  its  sudden  exertion. 

"  That's  who,  is  it?  "  said  Matt. 

"  Yes,"  said  Jack.  "  I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you, 
Matt,  but  it  came  out  all  of  a  sudden.  I  meant  to 
ask  you,  though,  to  go  and  explain  things  to  her, 
so  she  shouldn't  have  to  think  any  worse  of  me  than 
she  needs  to," 

"All  right,"  said  the  literal  Matt,  "  but  I  couldn't 
very  well  have  told  her  if  I  hadn't  known  who  she 
was,  you  see." 

"Yes,  that's  true,"  admitted  Jack. 

"  Well,  I  guess  I  had  better  do  it  at  once,  for  I 
saw  her  sitting  on  the  back  piazza,  peeling  peaches, 
as  I  came  along,  and  there's  no  time  like  the  pres 
ent,  you  know." 

Jack  acknowledged  to  himself  the  general  appii- 


152  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

cation  of  Matt's  plea  for  promptness,  but  he  some 
how  wished  that  the  explanation  might  be  de 
ferred,  for  he  was  doubtful  as  to  what  message  to 
send,  so  he  asked  : 

"  What  will  you  tell  her,  Matt  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  say  you  didn't  set  the  barn  afire,"  said 
Matt,  "  and  that  your  worst  present  fear  is  that  she 
may  believe  you  did." 

"  That's  pretty  good,"  said  Jack,  beginning  to 
walk  up  and  down  the  room,  "  and  it's  delicate, 
too  ;  you  can  tell  her  I  haven't  sent  that  message 
to  any  other  girl  in  town,  and  that  I'd  rather  die 
than  do  it.  Go  ahead." 

But  Matt  could  not  think  of  anything  else  to  say, 
and  Jack  himself  thought  of  something,  but  made 
several  ineffectual  attempts  to  give,  voice  to  it. 
At  length  he  assumed  a  heroic  attitude  and  said : 

"  Tell  her  that  in  my  rigorous  confinement  my 
sole  comfort  is  taken  from  thoughts  of  her." 

"  Golly  !  "  exclaimed  Matt ;  "  that  sounds  just 
like  a  book  !  It's  just  stunning.  I'll  write  that 
down  and  commit  it  to  memory  on  the  way,  for  it's 
too  good  to  spoil." 

Matt  pencilled  the  sentence  on  the  back  of  a  bill 
which  he  had  been  sent  to  pay,  and  over  Matt's 


SWEET    SOLACE.  I  53 

shoulder  Jack  read  the  words  several  times,  with 
a  comfort  which  gradually  grew  into  pride.  Then 
he  said  : 

"  I  wish  I  had  something  to  send  her  as  a  proof 
of  my — regard.  Do  you  suppose  she  ever  plays 
marbles  nowadays — I've  got  a  gorgeous  glass  alley 
that  I  could  send  her." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Matt,  thinking 
profoundly,  "  but  I  guess  it  would  be  all  right,  for 
she  can  trade  it  to  her  brother  Billy  for  his  sleigh- 
line  to  make  a  skipping-rope  of — I'll  just  suggest 
that  to  her." 

"  Good,"  said  Jack.  "  You  are  a  true  friend, 
Matt.  When  do  you  suppose  you  could  come 
back  and  report  ?  I  can't  wait  till  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  but  mother  won't  let  you  come  in  a  second 
time  to-day,  I'm  afraid." 

"  I'll  come  under  the  window  and  whistle," 
said  Matt,  "  and  you  can  put  your  head  out  and  I'll 
whisper  up." 

"  All  right,"  said  Jack,  "  and  you'll  hurry,  won't 
you  ?  " 

Matt  promised  haste  and  departed  just  in  time, 
for  Jack's  father  came  in  to  say  that  now  that  Matt 
had  become  a  gambler,  his  visits  would  have  to  be 


154  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

discontinued.  Then  Jack  felt  desolate  indeed,  and 
he  cried,  and  began  to  make  a  series  of  promises,  but 
he  was  cut  short  with  the  remark  : 

"  I've  heard  a  great  deal  from  a  promising  boy ; 
I  think  I'd  enjoy  a  performing  one,  as  a  change." 

Jack  had  thought  some  of  developing  to  his 
father  his  great  plan  of  restitution  for  the  burned 
stable.  But  now  he  determined  most  resolutely  to 
remand  this  great  deed  to  the  limbo  of  surprises, 
although  six  or  seven  years  would  be  a  great  while 
to  defer  the  enjoyment  of  observing  the  effect  upon 
the  doctor  of  the  intended  operation. 

Then  Jack's  mother  came  in,  bearing  a  tray  con 
taining  several  slices  of  bread  and  a  glass  of  water, 
and  she  held  the  tray  before  her,  exclaiming : 

"  Behold  the  wages  of  iniquity,  my  son." 

Jack  beheld,  with  a  hungry  glance,  and  deter 
mined  that  iniquity,  besides  being  unpleasant,  was 
paid  for  in  currency  of  but  slight  intrinsic  value. 
He  recalled,  somewhat  to  his  confusion,  the  pas 
sage  of  Scripture  which  asserts  that  the  wicked 
"  have  more  than  heart  can  wish,"  and  he  won 
dered  if  his  spare  repast  might  not  be  an  indica 
tion  that  he  was  not  so  very  wicked  after  all. 

"  Jack,"    said    Mrs.  Wittingham    "  you    are    kill- 


SWEET    SOLACE.  I  55 

ing  me  by  inches.  I've  reached  an  age  when  I 
am  easily  affected  by  anything  unusual,  whether 
it  is  good  or  bad,  and  everything  I  hear  about 
you  upsets  me." 

"  Nobody  ever  says  anything  about  the  good 
things  I  do,  mother,"  complained  Jack. 

Mrs.  Wittingham  remembered  to  have  had  some 
such  thought  at  certain  times  in  her  own  life,  when 
her  good  deeds  were  regarded  as  actual  matters  of 
course,  whereas  her  petty  imperfections  had  been 
causes  of  complaint  and  unkindness.  But  to  admit 
such  a  thing  would  be  to  give  the  boy  sympathy, 
and  should  wrong-doers  have  the  consolation  which 
sympathy  would  afford  ?  So  Mrs.  Wittingham  lost 
an  opportunity  of  at  least  narrowing  the  gulf  be 
tween  her  only  child  and  herself,  and  continued : 

"  Oh,  dear! — I  would  give  anything  if  I  could  un 
derstand  you.  I  never  did  any  of  the  dreadful 
things  you  do." 

"  You  were  a  girl,"  explained  Jack. 

"  My  brothers  never  did  such  things,  either,"  said 
Mrs.  Wittingham. 

"  I  guess  they  didn't  run  and  tell  you  every  time 
they  did  anything,"  the  boy  suggested. 

"  They  had  nothing  to  tell,"  said  Mrs.  Wittingham. 


156  THE    WORST    BOY    IN     TOWN. 

And  she  told  the  truth  ;  her  brothers  had  lacked 
the  vitality  necessary  to  persistent  mischief-making 
and  had  always  been  considered  good  boys,  though 
their  manliness  after  they  reached  adult  years  was 
strictly  of  a  negative  nature,  and  they  had  invaria 
bly  failed  in  business  and  everything  else  they  un 
dertook,  barring  the  one  who  had  used  slyness  as  a 
substitute  for  strength,  and  decamped  for  parts  un 
known  with  the  funds  of  a  corporation  of  which  he 
had  been  cashier.  But  Jack  could  devise  no  retort 
to  his  mother's  last  remark,  so  he  moodily  took  a 
slice  of  bread,  and  the  lady  departed,  contemplating 
her  son  with  a  look  far  more  loving  than  she  ever 
indulged  in  when  the  boy's  eyes  were  upon  her. 

Jack  ate  his  dinner  with  considerable  gusto,  com 
plaining  to  himself  only  of  insufficient  quality.  As 
he  lifted  the  last  slice  from  the  plate  he  discovered 
a  bit  of  paper  under  it,  upon  which  was  pencilled 
the  Scriptural  saying,  "  The  wicked  shall  not  live 
out  half  their  days,"  and  Jack  considered  this  line 
the  most  unsatisfactory  dessert  that  had  ever  been 
placed  before  him.  He  admitted  the  truth  of  all 
Scripture,  however,  and  he  meekly  hoped  that  he 
might  live  long  enough  to  earn  money  to  make  the 
payment  for  that  burned  stable — this  he  could 


SWEET    SOLACE.  I  57 

surely  do,  if  the  wicked  were  allowed  a  full  half  of 
three  score  and  ten  years. 

A  sudden  whistle  under  the  window  banished 
every  thought,  pleasant  and  unpleasant,  except  of 
nice  little  Mattie  Barker,  and  though  from  where 
Jack  sat  to  the  window  measured  only  three  or  four 
steps  of  distance,  Jack  felt  that  he  consumed  at 
least  an  hour  in  traversing  it.  Finally  he  looked 
down,  and  Matt  looked  up  and  whispered : 

"  It's  all  right." 

"  Glory!  "  whispered  Jack. 

"  The  glass  alley  went  right  to  the  spot,"  con 
tinued  Matt,  "  for  she  said  she'd  wanted  that  sleigh 
line  for  months,  but  Billy  had  been  too  stingy  for 
anything." 

"  What  did  she  say — about  me,  I  mean,"  whis 
pered  Jack. 

"  Oh,  nothing  much,"  said  Matt,  "  that  is — well, 
she  said  it  was  too  bad  that  you  couldn't  get  out,  and 
that  you  should  have  to  suffer  for  somebody  else's 
meanness,  but  she  hoped  you'd  never  gamble  again." 

"  I  won't,"  said  Jack:  "  I'll  swear  it  on  my  Testa 
ment,  right  away."  And  Jack's  head  was  withdrawn 
for  a  moment,  and  then  reappeared,  its  owner  re 
marking  : 


158  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  There — that  thing  is  fixed." 

"  And  she  sent  you  a  posy — I've  got  it  in  my  hat. 
How  will  I  get  it  up  to  you?" 

"  I'll  let  a  fish  line  down,"  whispered  Jack,  and 
hastily  suited  the  action  to  the  word.  "  Put  it  on 
the  upper  hook,"  Jack  continued,  "that's  a  new 
one,  and  no  fish  has  ever  mussed  it  any." 

The  precious  token  of  regard  was  hauled  up,  and 
Jack  kissed  it,  modestly  retiring  his  head  as  he  did 
so.  Then  he  looked  from  the  window  again,  with 
an  extremely  radiant  face,  and  whispered  : 

"  Oh,  Matt,  I  never  was  so  happy  in  all  my  life  ! " 

"  Not  even  when  you'd  got  up  to  a  woodpecker's 
nest  ?  "  asked  Matt. 

"  No,"  said  Jack,  "  nor  when  I  caught  that  big 
salmon  last  year,  either." 

"  Is  that  so  ?  "  asked  Matt,  reflectively.  "  Then  I 
guess  it's  time  for  me  to  be  thinking  about  getting 
in  love.  And  I  know  it's  dinner  time.  Good-bye." 

Matt  departed,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
Jack  did  not  regret  the  absence  of  his  favorite  com 
panion.  Fortunately  he  had  not  drunk  the  water 
from  his  goblet,  so  he  placed  the  flowers  therein, 
and  he  looked  at  them,  collectively  and  individ 
ually,  and  he  took  them  out  again  and  kissed  their 


SWEET    SOLACE.  I  59 

stems,  because  those  were  what  nice  little  Mattie 
Barker's  fingers  had  touched  when  she  plucked 
them,  and  he  skipped  six  or  seven  years  as  if  they 
were  mere  syllogisms  and  he  a  politician,  and  his 
fancy  invested  him  with  a  moustache  and  nice  little 
Mattie  Barker  in  a  dress  which  touched  the  ground, 
and  they  were  living  in  a  beautiful  house  overlook 
ing  the  river,  with  the  finest  of  fishing  rods  and 
double-barrelled  guns  on  racks  in  the  parlor,  and  a 
beautiful  easy  chair  which  should  be  Matt's  very 
own,  and  a  span  of  crack  horses,  which  he  would 
sometimes  lend  his  father,  and  things,  and  things, 
and  things. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE  BOY  WHO  WAS  NOT  AFRAID. 

WHEN  Jack  emerged  from  his  enforced  re 
tirement  of  the  week,  it  was  with  an  aris 
tocratic  complexion,  a  fine  sense  of  rectitude,  and  a 
powerful  conviction  that  in  spite  of  his  unsavory 
reputation  having  had  additional  light  cast  upon  it 
by  the  burning  stable,  there  still  was  something 
worth  living  for,  and  that  the  something  aforesaid 
was  nice  little  Mattie  Barker.  The  bouquet  she 
had  sent  him  had  been  carefully  preserved  through 
out  the  week,  though  it  had  not  always  been  easy 
to  secrete  it  on  the  approach  of  his  mother  and 
father.  Why  he  should  have  hidden  it  from  them 
he  could  not  have  told,  for  they  would  have  as 
sumed  that  he  had  culled  it  himself,  and  they  were 
more  than  glad  on  account  of  the  new  regard  for 
flowers  he  had  shown  since  his  sickness;  but  it 
made  Jack  feel  very  manly  to  hide  that  bouquet,  to 
imagine  that  it  would  be  removed  if  discovered, 

1 60 


THE    BOY    WHO    WAS    NOT    AFRAID.  l6l 

and  to  think  of  the   desperate  deeds   he  would  do 
rather  than  have  it  torn  from  him. 

In  spite  of  love,  however,  the  boy  felt  somewhat 
as  a  discharged  criminal  is  supposed  to  feel.  He 
did  not  know  where  to  go,  or  what  to  do.  The 
prohibition  of  the  society  of  other  boys  had  been 
strengthened  by  new  and  stringent  clauses.  Jack 
could  not  very  well  seek  out  girls  to  play  with,  un 
less  he  chose  to  run  the  risk  of  being  laughed  at, 
and  being  suspected  of  fickleness  by  nice  little 
Mattie  Barker.  His  recent  conversations  with  his 
,  mother  had  not  been  of  a  variety  of  which  he 
wanted  more,  his  father  was  pleasant  enough  of 
speech — when  not  pre-occupied — but  he  would  per 
sist  in  affixing  a  moral  or  a  warning  to  every  sen 
tence  he  spoke,  ard  though  Jack  felt  sure  that  no 
person  living  had  a  higher  regard  for  moral  appli 
cations  than  himself,  he  did  not  care  to  have  them 
in  everything.  His  father  liked  butter,  as  was 
proper  enough,  but  did  he  mix  it  with  everything 
he  put  in  his  mouth — cake,  coffee,  fruit,  etc.  ?  Jack 
rather  thought  not. 

Perhaps  the  doctor  had  never  heard  of  the  pope's 
bull  against  the  comet  and  its  impotence,  or  he 
might  have  evolved  a  moral  application  for  his  own 


THE    WORST    IBOY    IN    TOWN. 

use,  in  the  matter  of  prohibiting  Jack  from  asso 
ciating  with  other  boys.  No  matter  how  earnestly 
the  world,  in  the  time  of  the  pope  alluded  to,  ex 
pressed  its  objections  to  associating  with  comets, 
the  comet  came  right  along  as  straight  as  a  due 
deference  to  solar  control  would  allow.  And  the 
order  of  seclusion  imposed  upon  Jack  did  not  make 
him  any  the  less  yearned  after  by  his  late  play 
mates.  It  began  to  be  noticed,  by  boys  of  observ 
ing  habits,  that  the  youth  of  Doveton  were  falling 
into  ruts,  and  showing  no  inclination  to  depart  from 
them  ;  that  there  was  nothing  particular  to  do  ;  that 
the  procession  of  games,  each  according  to  its 
season,  was  lapsing  into  irregularity;  that  nobody 
got  up  anything  new,  and  the  only  plausible  reason 
seemed  to  be  the  absence  of  Jack.  In  a  general 
convention  of  boys  it  was  agreed,  with  but  two  dis 
senting  voices — those  of  the  jugged  loafer  and  the 
buttonless  Pinkshaw  twin — that  what  society  needed 
was  to  have  Jack  resume  his  place  in  it,  and  the 
two  dissenters  were  informed  that  if  they  didn't 
make  the  vote  unanimous  they  would  find  it  advis 
able  to  move  to  the  next  town. 

Then  it  was  informally  resolved  that  Jack's  father 
was  an  old  hog,  and  a  protest  from  lame  Joey  Wil- 


THE    BOY    WHO    WAS    NOT    AFRAID.  163 

son,  who  declared  that  during  his  own  illness,  which 
had  made  him  lame,  the  doctor  had  been  just  lovely 
to  him,  only  made  it  more  inexcusable  that  the 
doctor  should  not  be  better  to  Jack.  To  such  a 
pitch  of  indignation  did  the  feeling  against  the 
doctor  arise,  that  after  the  nine  o'clock  evening  bell 
broke  up  the  convention,  the  braver  and  more  close- 
tongued  boys  expressed  their  disapprobation  of  the 
doctor's  course  by  building  a  rail  fence,  some  forty 
lengths  long,  around  the  doctor's  front  gate,  carry 
ing  the  rails  from  a  pasture  a  square  away.  To  re 
move  this  fence,  and  replace  the  rails  in  their  right 
ful  positions,  required  all  of  Jack's  time  during  the 
following  week,  noting  which  fact  the  boys  doubted 
whether  their  operation  against  the  doctor  had 
been  a  positive  success,  while  Jack  himself  per 
ceived,  as  he  perspired,  that  even  sympathy  has  its 
penalties. 

But  he  adhered  manfully  to  his  good  resolutions. 
As  the  time  for  the  next  Puttytop  demonstration 
approached,  he  determined  that  he  would  leave  all 
his  delightful  devices  to  the  friend  who  suggested 
them  to  him,  while  to  Matt,  who  one  day  sneaked 
to  the  fence  and  asked  when  that  new  torpedo 
blower  could  be  had,  Jack  tragically  exclaimed, 


164  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan."  To  be  sure,  he  said 
it  before  he  had  taken  time  to  ponder  upon  the 
advisability  of  saying  it,  and  the  instant  it  escaped 
his  lips  he  wished  he  had  only  thought  it  instead  of 
uttering  it ;  but  none  of  this  reconsideration  had 
any  effect  upon  Matt,  for  on  receipt  of  the  unex 
pected  reply,  he  had  bestowed  just  one  frightened 
look  upon  Jack  and  then  taken  to  his  heels,  and 
remained  invisible  to  Jack  through  all  subsequent 
days  until  he  received  an  apologt^ic  note,  after 
which  confidence  was  restored  by  supplementary 
proceedings  at  the  front  gate. 

The  great  Puttytop  demonstration  was  effected 
without  disturbance,  but  there  were  some  signs  of 
despondency  manifested  by  those  interested  in  the 
local  ticket,  which  Puttytop  helped  and  was  helped 
by,  for  the  Germans,  incensed  by  the  treatment 
which  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel  had  received,  made 
their  grievance  an  affair  of  nationality,  and  went 
over  bodily  to  the  Baggs  faction.  As  the  few  last 
days  of  the  campaign  approached,  Jack's  patriotic 
spirit  began  to  chafe  at  inaction,  and  he  finally  be 
came  excited  to  the  pitch  of  asking  his  father 
whether  he  might  not  take  part  in  the  great  and 
final  Baggs  torchlight  procession.  The  doctor  was 


THE    BOY    WHO    WAS    NOT    AFRAID.  165 

astonished  by  the  temerity  of  this  request,  but  he 
was  himself  a  Baggs  man,  Doveton  was  too  far 
from  any  great  city  for  politics  to  have  become  ex 
clusively  rowdyish,  the  marshals  of  the  procession 
were  nearly  all  church  members,  Jack  had  been 
quiet  for  a  long  time,  so  the  doctor  gave  his  assent, 
taking  the  precaution,  however,  to  make  a  personal 
appeal  to  each  marshal  to  keep  an  eye  on  the  boy. 

Jack  was  overjoyed,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
make  a  transparency  and  covered  it  with  stirring 
mottoes.  Then  he  made  another,  a  very  fine  one 
it  was,  too,  which  he  embellished  with  the  inscrip 
tion,  "  Truth  crushed  to  earth  shall  rise  again,"  and 
this  he  presented  to  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel.  But 
Nuderkopf  intimated  that  he  had  had  enough  of  pol 
itics  to  last  him  until  the  next  campaign,  so  he  used 
the  sympathetic  transparency  to  shield  a  plant  of 
late  tomatoes  from  the  frost,  and  when  Jack  learned 
this  he  confided  to  Matt  that  he  washed  his  hands 
of  that  ungrateful  Dutchman,  then  and  forever. 

Somehow  Jack  had  frequent  and  imperative 
needs  to  consult  other  boys  before  the  night  of 
the  procession,  but  each  time  he  asked  the  permis 
sion  of  his  father,  and  made  known  the  subjects  of 
the  conversation  desired,  until  the  doctor  began  to 


1 66 


THE    .WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 


believe  that  Jack  was  really  trying  to  do  right.  As 
for  the  subjects  of  consultation  with  the  boys,  they 
ranged  all  the  way  from  lights  for  transparencies  to 
the  particular  style  and  succession  of  hoots  to  be 
uttered  on  passing  Puttytop  headquarters.  Upon 
this  last-named  affair  Jack  bestowed  a  great  deal 
of  time,  and,  finally,  having  gone  to  Matt's  for 
something,  and  found  nearly  all  the  boys  in  the 
Bolton  barn,  he  conducted  a  rehearsal  with  such 
success  that  within  five  seconds  after  the  first  note 
had  sounded,  the  Bolton  horse  had  started  back  in 
wild  affright,  snapped  his  halter-strap,  and  bumped 
the  side  of  the  barn  behind  him  so  forcibly  that  he 
was  stiff  for  a  month  afterward. 

When  the  procession  finally  formed,  Jack's  trans 
parency  was  the  observed  of  all  observers.  On  one 
side  he  had  acknowledged  his  youth,  but  warned  the 
opposition  against  despising  it  by  the  inscription, 
"  Little,  but  Oh,  My!  "  On  the  second  face  of  the 
transparency,  Mephistopheles,  all  in  red,  laid  a  gaunt 
hand,  black,  upon  an  ungainly  individual  in  blue. 
Lest  the  meaning  of  this  painting  might  seem 
doubtful  to  the  general  gaze,  the  name  of  Mr.  Put 
tytop  appeared  under  the  blue  personage.  A  third 
side  was  ornamented  with  the  portrait  of  the  op- 


THE    BOY    WHO    WAS    NOT    AFRAID.  l6/ 

position  candidate,  and  it  must  have  been  a  good 
one,  for  Jack  had  cut  it  from  a  Puttytop  poster 
which  had  been  tacked  to  his  father's  new  stable. 
In  this  picture  the  adapter  proved  himself  to  be 
not  without  genius,  for  over  the  whole  of  that 
portion  of  the  candidate's  cranium  which  had  been 
devoted  to  hair,  Jack  had  affixed  real  putty,  fasten 
ing  it  in  place  with  pins,  their  heads  enlarged  with 
red  sealing  wax  and  their  points  bent  inside  the 
canvas.  The  effect  of  this  work  of  art,  when  it 
came  under  a  light  from  the  outside,  was  that  of  a 
bald-headed  man,  upon  whose  scalp  a  bad  case  of 
smallpox  had  concentrated  its  energies.  On  the 
fourth  and  last  side  there  was  a  palpable  allusion  to 
the  bibulous  habits  of  which  Puttytop  had  been 
accused  by  the  managers  of  the  Baggs  faction,  for 
the  ornament  was  a  sketch  of  a  declivity,  begin 
ning  at  an  upper  corner  and  drooping  downward 
almost  to  the  opposite  corner  ;  on  the  top  of  this 
began  a  series  of  red  spots  which  increased  in  size, 
number,  and  intensity  of  tint  until  they  culminated 
in  the  general  deep  red  at  the  base  ;  under  all  this 
was  the  inscription,  "  His  Nose." 

Many  were  the  stones  and  imprecations  hurled  at 
this  chef  d'ceuvre  as  the  procession  moved  through 


1 68 


THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 


the  streets,  and  all  of  Jack's  strength  of  mind  and 
body  was  required  to  enable  the  young  man  to 
manage  his  temper  and  hold  his  transparency  up 
right.  It  would  hardly  be  safe  to  say  that  the  doc 
tor,  who  viewed  the  procession  from  a  corner,  en 
tirely  approved  of  his  son's  taste,  but  the  boy's  up 
right  bearing  pleased  the  old  gentleman,  and  as  one 
of  the  marshals,  who  was  also  Jack's  Sunday-school 
teacher,  rode  very  close  behind  Jack,  the  doctor 
went  home  feeling  that  his  boy  was  in  safe  hands. 
But  the  final  disposing  of  the  procession  did  not- 
conclude  Jack's  patriotic  duties.  A  large  paper 
balloon,  inscribed  "  Baggs  Forever,  One  and  Insep 
arable,"  was  to  be  sent  up  by  the  boys.  This  was 
to  be  placed  in  the  heavens  by  means  of  heated  air, 
to  be  provided  by  a  burning  sponge  saturated  with 
alcohol,  and  hanging  on  a  wire  which  was  stretched 
across  the  open  mouth  of  the  balloon.  The  boy 
who  had  been  charged  with  procuring  the  alcohol 
had  dishonestly  spent  the  money  for  powder  and 
shot  with  which  to  go  hunting,  but  he  had  made 
good  the  deficiency  by  stealing  his  mother's  bot 
tle  of  cooking  brandy.  It  burned  to  a  charm, 
the  balloon  soared  gracefully  aloft  amid  a  loud 
chorus  of  "  Ah ! "  and  then  the  boy  who  held 


THE    BOY    WHO    WAS   NOT    AFRAID.  169 

the  bottle  and  who  knew  the  liquor  by  its  smell, 
remarked  that  it  was  a  pity  not  to  put  the  remain 
ing  contents  where  they  would  do  the  most  good. 
The  motion  was  seconded  by  one  or  two  bad 
boys  who  were  not  unacquainted  with  liquor,  and 
the  bottle  was  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  Jack 
being  the  fourth  who  received  it. 

"  I  don't  drink,"  said  he,  holding  the  bottle 
and  wondering  whether  it  would  be  best  to  empty 
it  on  the  ground. 

"  You're  afraid  to,"  said  one  of  the  drinkers,  to 
whom  Jack  had  been  held  up,  to  the  extreme 
pitch  of  exasperation,  as  a  good  temperance  boy. 

"  Of  course  he's  afraid,"  said  another  bad  boy. 

The  mere  smell  of  the  brandy  made  Jack  shud 
der,  but  this  was  as  nothing  to  the  trembling 
caused  by  the  charge  of  fear.  Afraid  ?  well,  he 
was  afraid — of  being  laughed  at,  so  he  placed 
the  bottle  to  his  lips.  He  did  not  know  anything 
about  the  quantity  to  drink,  except  that  when  he 
drank  water  out  of  a  bottle  as  he  frequently  did 
when  out  after  berries  in  summer,  he  usually 
took  about  a  dozen  swallows,  so  he  swallowed 
industriously  until  one  of  the  bad  boys  who  had 
not  drunk  complained  that  none  was  being  left 


I7O  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

for  the  others.  Then  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
had  been  swallowing  the  whole  of  a  great  conflagra 
tion,  and  that  he  would  cough  himself  to  death,  if, 
indeed,  he  did  not  die  of  the  uncontrollable  trem 
bling  that  agitated  his  frame. 

During  the  long-drawn  moment  in  which  this  new 
misery  was  being  experienced  by  Jack,  most  of  the 
remaining  boys  had  been  vociferating  discordant 
ly  about  something,  and  when  Jack  regained  some 
little  control  over  himself  he  saw  that  the  balloon 
was  the  cause  of  their  agitation ;  it  had  lost  its 
balance,  perhaps  from  too  much  of  the  brandy  get 
ting  to  its  head,  and  in  turning  sideways  it  had 
caught  fire  and  begun  to  fall.  It  caused  a  beautiful 
though  dissolving  view,  and  soon  there  was  nothing 
remaining  but  the  sponge,  which  was  coming  down 
as  brightly  and  apparently  as  swiftly  as  a  meteor. 
Everybody  ran  to  see  where  it  fell,  and  although 
the  sponge  was  making  considerably  the  best  time, 
it  had  by  far  the  greater  distance  to  travel,  so  the 
boys  had  nearly  reached  it  when  it  tumbled  into 
the  well-stocked  pig  pen  of  Shantz,  the  butcher, 
where  it  was  received  with  all  the  hubbub  which 
the  appearance  of  so  unusual  a  visitor  could  warrant. 
The  spectacle  of  a  brightly-blazing  sponge  in  a  small 


THE    BOY    WHO    WAS   NOT    AFRAID.  I/I 

enclosure,  with  a  dozen  hogs  squealing  at  it,  was 
one  which  commended  itself  to  the  boys  by  its 
utter  novelty,  but  when  the  proprietor  of  the  es 
tablishment  opened  his  own  back  door,  and  descend 
ed  the  yard  with  a  club',  the  scene  became  suddenly 
devoid  of  interest,  and  the  place  which  knew  the 
boys  but  now,  knew  them  no  more  that  evening. 
The  boys  afterward  agreed,  while  talking  the  matter 
over,  that  any  sensible  man  would  first  have  cast  the 
dangerous  visitor  from  the  pen.  But  Shantz  had  seen 
so  much  of  juvenile  mischief  that  whenever  he  saw  a 
boy  near  the  scene  of  any  irregularity,  he  thought 
more  of  preventing  future  trouble  than  of  curing 
that  which  existed,  so  he  left  the  pigs  to  take  care 
of  the  sponge,  and  gave  chase  to  the  boys. 

Jack  did  his  best  to  keep  up  with  his  companions, 
but  he  had  never  in  his  life  suspected  our  quiet  old 
globe  of  such  unstable  ways  as  she  indulged  in 
during  that  short  run.  The  world  tipped  to  one 
side  until  Jack  was  certain  that  he  would  roll  over 
to  his  left  in  a  moment  and  slide  straight  down  hill 
to  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  which  was  five  hundred  miles 
away.  Then  the  world  tipped  the  other  way,  and 
Jack  felt  himself  going,  going,  going,  until  he  felt 
sure  that  in  a  minute  or  two  he  would  be  caught 


1/2  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

and  impaled  on  some  lofty  peak  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  more  than  a  thousand  miles  to  the  right. 
Then  all  the  stars  of  heaven  forsook  their  orbits 
and  dashed  about  each  other  in  a  manner  which 
made  Jack  too  giddy  to  look  at  them,  so  he  looked 
straight  before  him  at  the  steeple  of  the  Presby 
terian  Church,  just  in  time  to  see  it  dissolve  itself 
into  two  steeples,  which  trembled  awhile  and  then 
indulged  in  a  mad  strife  to  see  which  should  over 
top  the  other.  The  antics  which  Hoccamine's  store 
indulged  in  were  very  dangerous  to  a  brick  struc 
ture  which  had  been  erected  by  contract,  as  that 
had.  Then  Jack  seemed  to  be  treading  on  air,  a 
league  at  a  step,  yet  unable  to  approach  any  nearer 
to  his  companions. 

Suddenly  his  collar  tightened,  though  he  could 
not  imagine  why;  then  the  judgment-day  seemed 
surely  to  come,  for  stars  and  steeples  and  stores  all 
mixed  themselves  in  utter  confusion,  and  Jack  fell 
backward  some  thousands  of  miles,  apparently,  and 
the  last  sensation  he  experienced  was  of  seeing  a 
giant  about  a  mile  high,  but  of  a  face,  form  and 
voice  identical  with  those  of  Shantz  the  butcher, 
and  the  giant  raised  a  club,  which  was  certainly 
the  trunk  of  the  largest  of  the  California  big  trees, 
and 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

PAYING    FOR    A    SPREE. 

WHEN  next  Jack  became  conscious  of  his 
own  existence,  it  was  with  a  conviction 
that  the  giant  who  looked  like  Shantz  the  butcher 
had  set  his  feet  against  a  mountain  or  something, 
and  was  bracing  himself  with  all  his  force  against 
the  top  of  Jack's  head.  Then  he  felt  assured  that 
the  giant  had  taken  out  Jack's  eyes,  rilling  the  cavi 
ties  with  two  enormous  leaden  balls,  and  that  the 
giant  had  filled  his  mouth  with  wool,  and  put  ice 
under  his  back,  having  first  run  an  unyielding  iron 
rod  all  the  way  through  his  spinal  column,  and  that 
the  giant  had  bound  his  knees  and  elbows  in  splints 
so  that  neither  could  be  bent,  and  then  had  fiend 
ishly  set  a  great  fire  blazing  in  front  of  his  face. 
After  what  seemed  hours  of  dumb  terror,  Jack  suc 
ceeded  in  parting  his  eyelids,  and  the  leaden  balls 
within  them  answered  the  natural  purpose  of  eyes 
pretty  well,  for  he  saw  that  he  was  lying  on  the 

173 


174*  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

ground,  with  the  sun,  already  several  hours  high, 
shining  right  in  his  face,  and  that  he  was  quite  close 
to  a  fence,  and  out  of  the  way  of  any  of  the  beaten 
paths  of  the  town. 

Then  he  found  he  could  move  one  of  his  arms 
from  the  shoulder,  and  then,  after  considerable  ef 
fort,  he  could  bend  his  elbow,  and  he  felt  the  other 
elbow  and  assured  himself  that  it  was  not  bound 
after  all.  Then  he  managed  to  raise  himself  by  one 
arm,  though  the  iron  rod  in  his  spine  was  not  as 
elastic  as  he  could  have  wished,  and  a  cautious  look 
upward  and  a  painful  twisting  of  his  neck  showed 
that  the  giant  was  no  longer  pressing  on  the  top  of 
his  head,  though  the  sense  of  compression  still  re 
mained.  This  soon  gave  way  to  a  sensation  of 
lightness,  and  Jack  fell  backward,  though  he  man 
aged  to  turn  upon  his  side  a  moment  or  two  after. 

Some  misty  moments  were  consumed  in  attempts 
to  determine  who  he  was  and  how  he  had  come  to 
be  in  that  particular  place,  the  final  result  being 
that  Jack  became  convinced  that  he  had  been 
drunk.  The  mere  recalling  of  his  last  experiences 
of  the  previous  night  made  him  so  lightheaded  that 
he  clutched  frantically  at  a  tuft  of  grass  to  keep 
himself  from  tumbling  upward.  Then  he  realized 


PAYING    FOR    A    SPREE.  1/5 

that  he  had  never  before  in  his  life  been  so  terribly 
thirsty,  so  he  entered  the  side  gate  of  the  garden 
near  which  he  had  been  lying,  and  drank  freely  from 
the  well-pail.  Even  this  exertion  left  him  so  shaky 
that  he  had  barely  strength  enough  to  get  outside 
the  garden  before  he  dropped.  Then  he  curled  up 
outside  the  fence,  shaded  his  eyes  with  one  hand, 
and  determined  that  the  sun  had  never  before  been 
so  bright. 

Then  he  set  himself  to  thinking.  His  father  and 
nice  little  Mattie  Barker  came  into  his  mind,  arm 
in  arm  as  it  were,  but  the  latter  soon  drove  out 
the  former,  with  the  result  of  making  the  young 
man  more  miserable  than  he  had  ever  been  under 
the  oppressive  terrors  of  parental  wrath.  He  had 
barely  escaped  losing  her  by  being  suspected  of  in 
cendiarism  and  being  a  confessed  gambler,  but  what 
were  these  to  a  genuine,  positive  case  of  drunken 
ness  ?  No  one  had  seen  him  in  his  present  condi 
tion — at  least,  it  was  safe  to  assume  that  no  one 
had,  for  to  see  a  drunken  person  in  Doveton  was  to 
talk  about  him,  with  the  result  of  soon  having  a 
crowd  of  lookers-on.  He  had  not  meant  to  get 
drunk,  but,  honestly,  had  he  ever  deliberately  in 
tended  to  do  any  of  the  dreadful  deeds  of  which  he 


1/  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

had  been  guilty!  Once,  while  lounging  in  a  court 
room,  and  in  the  cessation  of  putty-blowing  which 
he  had  thought  wise  while  the  sheriff's  eye  seemed 
upon  him,  he  heard  a  lawyer  inform  a  jury  that  the 
law  always  considered  the  intention  of  the  wrong 
doer,  and  now  Jack  wished  that  his  adored  might 
have  heard  that  address.  He  wondered  if  Matt 
could  be  trusted  to  carry  her  a  message  about  some 
thing  else,  and  then  lead  conversation  deftly  toward 
the  unintentional  wrong-doers  of  the  world,  and  im 
press  upon  little  Mattie  the  fact  of  which  he  had 
been  informed  in  court.  But,  no,  Matt  was  such  a 
literal  fellow. 

Meanwhile,  there  had  been  an  unusual  commotion 
in  the  Wittingham  household.  Jack  not  having  re 
sponded  to  the  breakfast  bell,  the  servant  was  sent 
to  awaken  him,  but  she  returned  with  the  informa 
tion  that  he  was  not  in  his  bed,  nor  had  he  been 
there  during  the  night,  for  the  coverlid  and  pillows 
were  as  smooth  as  if  untouched.  Then  the  doctor 
growled  and  Mrs.  Wittingham  fretted ;  and  the  doc 
tor  said  he  supposed  the  young  scamp  had  gone 
home  with  Matt,  and  Mrs.  Wittingham  hoped  the 
boy  had  not  gone  to  the  river  and  got  drowned  in 
the  dark;  and  the  doctor  said  he  did  not  see  why 


PAYING    FOR    A    SPREE. 

women  always  imagined  improbable  things  as  soon 
as  anything  happened  that  was  out  of  the  usual 
order,  and  Mrs.  Wittingham  said  she  could  not  un 
derstand  why  men  always  would  be  unsympathetic 
just  when  there  were  aching  hearts  that  longed  for 
tenderness  ;  and  the  doctor  called  himself  a  brute, 
upon  which  Mrs.  Wittingham  disposed  of  a  tear  or 
two  which  had  come  unbidden,  and  the  doctor  de 
clared  that  the  skin  of  the  young  reprobate  should 
pay  for  those  tears.  But  the  cuticle  alluded  to  did 
not  appear,  either  with  or  without  its  natural  occu 
pant,  nor  could  a  search  of  the  stable  throw  any 
light  upon  the  mystery. 

Then  the  doctor  drove  to  Matt's,  and  discovered 
that  the  boy  was  not  there,  and  he  stopped  at  the 
jail,  ostensibly  to  ask  about  the  keeper's  baby,  but 
really  to  give  the  official  a  chance  to  say  something, 
if  Jack  had  got  into  trouble  and  his  old  quarters 
again.  But  still  he  remained  uninformed,  so  he  be 
gan  to  interview  such  boys  as  were  visible ;  these 
knew  nothing,  as  boys  always  do  when  questioned 
about  one  of  their  own  number  who  seems  to  be 
wanted  by  his  right  guardians.  No  one  had  seen 
him  since  the  balloon  caught  fire,  though  they 
quieted  one  very  unscientific  fear  tff  the  doctor's  by 


1/  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

delaring  positively  that  he  had  not  gone  heavenward 
with  the  balloon  itself. 

Suddenly  the  doctor  was  accosted  by  Shantz  the 
butcher,  who  was  driving  by,  and  who  said  : 

"  Doctor,  you  know  dot  bad  boy  dot  you  got  ?  " 

The  doctor  admitted  that  he  did. 

"Veil,  den,"  said  Shantz;  "  yust  you  hear  vat  I 
say — better  it  is  dot  you  do  it.  You  not  keep  dot 
boy  some  oder  blace,  den  I  kick  him  some  oder 
blace,  py  shimminy  cracious !  Dat's  yust  vat  it  is, 
I  dell  you." 

"  What  had  he  done  to  you  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"Vat  he  has  done?"  echoed  Shantz.  "Veil,  vat 
he  didn't  mebbe  come  pooty  nigh  a  dooin',  dot  ding 
is  mighty  bad,  now  I  dell  you.  He  drew  a  pig 
sponge  full  of  fire  at  my  hogs.  You  dink  I  vant 
to  sell  roast  hogs?  No,  sir!  an'  ven  I  do,  I  puts 
'em  over  de  fire — I  not  put  de  fire  right  ofer  de 
hogs,  an'  den  git  yust  lots  of  boys  to  come  an' 
laugh  vile  de  pigs  is  squeaking,  cause  I  reckon  dey 
don't  like  to  be  roasted  midout  being  killed  before 
dot." 

"  Why  didn't  you  thrash  him,  if  you  caught  him 
at  such  a  trick  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Vy  didn't  I  ?  "  asked  Shantz.     "  Veil,  I  yust  did, 


PAYING    FOR    A    SPREE. 

but  'twasn't  no  goot ;  he  vouldn't  holler,  but  yust 
tumbled  on  de  ground  an'  vas  vorse  as  a  whole 
dressed  pig  to  pick  up  again." 

A  few  questions  as  to  time  and  place  followed, 
and  the  doctor  drove  hurriedly  off,  vowing  to  him 
self  that  if  Shantz  had  really  injured  the  boy,  the 
burly  German  should  have  a  large  account  to  settle. 
To  tell  a  man  to  punish  Jack  was  one  thing — to 
find  that  the  man  had  taken  the  doctor  at  his  word, 
and  in  advance,  too,  was  quite  another.  The  doc 
tor  drove  toward  Shantz's  house,  looking  carefully 
about  him  and  asking  questions  of  every  one  he 
met,  so  it  came  to  pass  that  just  as  Jack  was  won 
dering  how  to  get  home  and  explain  his  absence 
without  telling  the  whole  truth,  he  heard  his 
father's  voice,  startingly  near  at  hand,  shouting  : 

"  Jack,  did  he  hurt  you  much  ?  " 

"Sir?"  answered  the  miserable  boy.  Then  Jack 
recalled  the  likeness  of  the  giant  of  the  previous 
night,  so  he  feebly  said,  questioningly,  "  Shantz  ?  " 

"Yes — the  villain  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "  My 
poor  boy,  come  here,  and  let  me  see  what  he  did  to 
you.  It  was  bad  enough  for  you  to 'throw  a  burn 
ing  sponge  into  his  pig-pen,  but 


I 

1 8O  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  I  didn't,  father,"  said  Jack.  "  The  sponge  fell 
from  the  balloon."  And  Jack  told  in  detail  the 
story  of  the  ascension  and  untimely  end  of  the  bal 
loon,  though  his  recital  was  so  fragmentary  and  de 
livered  with  so  much  shading  of  the  eyes  and  rub 
bing  of  the  head  that  the  doctor  grew  seriously 
alarmed  for  the  boy's  reason.  It  took  him  but  a 
second  or  two  to  dismount  from  his  carriage  and  lay 
his  hand  on  Jack's  head,  yet  even  in  this  short  time 
his  conscience  pricked  him  sorely  for  his  many  sins 
of  omission  concerning  his  only  son,  and  he  formed 
enough  of  good  resolutions  to  pave  at  least  a  mile 
of  the  infernal  pathway. 

"  Let  me  see  your  eyes,"  said  the  doctor. 
Jack  lifted  them,  heavy  and  bloodshot. 
"  No  concussion  of  the  brain,  thank  the  Lord," 
said  the  doctor.     "  Now  show  me  your  tongue." 

Jack  opened  his  mouth,  and  that  very  instant 
the  doctor  sniffed  the  air  suspiciously;  then  with 
both  hands  he  held  the  boy  at  arms'  length  and  ex 
claimed  : 

"  You've  been  drinking,  young  man." 
Jack  looked  up  guiltily  for  just  a  second,  and  then 
dropped  his  eyes. 

"  Go  home  this  instant !  "  said  the  doctor  ;  "  take 


PAYING    FOR   A    SPREE.  l8l 

off  your  clothes  and  go  to  bed,  and  stay  there  until 
I  come.  I  never  gave  you  a  bit  of  sympathy  with 
out  finding  that  I'd  wasted  it.  Go  along — quick  !  " 

As  the  doctor  spoke,  he  reached  for  his  carriage- 
whip,  so  Jack  moved  off  much  faster  than  a  moment 
or  two  before  he  would  have  thought  possible  under 
the  existing  physical  circumstances.  When  the 
doctor  had  turned  his  carriage  and  moved  off  to 
visit  some  patients  whom  he  had  been  neglecting 
all  the  morning,  Jack's  fears  were  sufficiently  allay 
ed  to  justify  his  thinking  about  the  weather,  for  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  sun  had  never  shone  so  hotly 
even  in  midsummer.  Then  he  wondered  what  his 
father  would  do  to  him.  He  had  been  punished 
with  great  severity  many  a  time,  though  his  faults 
had  never  before  been  so  grievous  as  this  present 
one  ;  the  mere  thought  of  being  punished  at  all  was 
more  than  in  his  present  physical  and  mental  con 
dition  he  could  bear. 

Suddenly  an  old  thought  occurred  to  him  :  he 
would  run  away.  He  had  many  a  time  determined 
to  do  so,  but  on  such  occasions  the  weather  was  too 
cold,  or  too  hot,  or  he  had  an  uncompleted  trade  on 
hand,  or  he  was  penniless,  or  something.  Now, 
however,  the  expected  punishment  overbalanced 


1 82  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

every  lesser  fear.  Perhaps  he  would  starve,  but  he 
would  not  be  so  dreadfully  sorry  if  he  did  ;  he 
would  escape  the  scoldings  and  punishments  that 
he  knew  of,  while  that  which  might  come  after  death 
would  at  least  have  the  alleviating  quality  of  nov 
elty.  But  there  was  little  likelihood  of  his  starv 
ing  ;  runaway  boys  in  books  and  story  papers  never 
did  anything  of  the  kind — they  always  fell  upon 
streaks  of  luck,  and  finally  married  heiresses.  Jack 
did  not  care  to  marry  an  heiress ;  nice  little  Mattie 
Barker  was  rich  enough  for  him,  but  alas !  she 
would  have  to  remain  a  sweetly  mournful  memory. 
He  would  at  least  strive  to  obtain  her  sympathy  ; 
he  would  write  her  a  touching,  a  tenderly-worded 
farewell,  and  then,  as  he  came  into  his  fortune  in 
other  lands,  he  would  write  her  respectful  anony 
mous  letters — perhaps,  even,  he  might  write  her  in 
verse,  though  about  that  he  could  not  speak  with 
certainty  at  present.  One  thing  he  knew — he  did 
wish  his  head  would  stop  aching  so  dreadfully. 

Arrived  at  home,  he  went  softly  to  his  own 
room,  bolted  the  door,  and  sat  down  to  write.  He 
wrote  and  tore  at  least  a  dozen  letters  before  he 
could  pen  one  which  seemed  to  suit  him ;  this, 
when  completed,  read  as  follows  : 


PAYING    FOR    A    SPREE.  183 

"  Miss  Mattie  Barker  : 

Dear  Madam, 

Farewell  forever. 

JACK   WlTTINGHAM." 

It  then  seemed  to  him  that  his  father  deserved 
a  parting  word,  so  he  wrote  : 

"  Dear  Father : 

You  want  me  to  be  good,  and  so 
do  I,  but  circumstances  over  which  I  seem  to 
have  no  control,  prevent  the  consummation  of  my 
earnest  desire  and  intention.*  When  I  come  back, 
I  shall  be  a  man,  and  rich  enough  to  comfort  you 
in  your  declining  years,  and  mother  too. 

Your  affectionate  son, 
JACK." 

This  letter  had  been  begun  at  the  top  of  the 
page,  with  the  intention  that  it  should  cover  the 
entire  front,  but  as  it  was,  there  was  a  considerable 
blank  space  at  the  bottom.  So  Jack  labored  hard 
to  devise  a  postscript,  but  his  head  was  not  equal 
to  much  composition.  Suddenly  his  fond  resolu- 

*  Jack  had  found  this  sentence  in  a  note  from  one  of  his  father's 
unfortunate  debtors,  and  he  had  been  carefully  saving  it  for  years 
until  a  proper  opportunity  for  using  it  should  occur. 


184  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

tion  came  to  mind  ;  it  was  to  have  been  a  dead 
secret,  but  now  it  seemed  only  just  that  his  father 
should  have  something  to  break  the  shock  of  his 
son's  departure — something  particularly  comforting 
and  uplifting.  So  he  wrote  : 

"  P.  S.  The  first  thousand  dollars  I  earn,  I'm 
going  to  send  to  you,  to  pay  for  the  stable  that 
burned  down  on  account  of  the  matches  in  my 
jacket  pocket  getting  scrunched  under  Bob  Pink- 
shaw's  foot." 

This  postscript  gave  Jack  a  great  deal  of  com 
fort  as  he  looked  at  it,  but  he  doubted  whether  it 
was  the  part  of  prudence  to  linger  over  it.  So  he 
sealed  and  addressed  both  letters,  and  put  his  fath 
er's  on  the  mantle  in  the  doctor's  room,  just  under 
the  hook  where  the  doctor's  watch  was  always  hung 
at  night  ;  the  other  letter  he  determined  to  mail 
at  the  first  post-town  he  reached  in  his  wander, 
ings. 

Then  he  got  a  little  hand-valise  of  his  father's, 
having  failed  to  find  a  pocket-handkerchief  large 
enough  to  hold  the  traveling  outfit  which  he  con 
sidered  necessary.  He  packed  all  his  fishing  tackle, 
a  .red  shirt,  a  pair  of  swimming  tights,  the  box  con 
taining  the  remains  of  nice  little  Mattie  Barker's 


PAYING    FOR    A    SPREE.  18$ 

bouquet,  some  underclothing,  his  Sunday  suit,  and 
his  whole  assortment  of  old   felt  hats.     He   looked 
around    the  room  lest    he   might    have    forgotten 
something,  and   beheld  the    little  Bible  which    his 
mother  had  given  him  on  his   tenth   birthday.     He 
had  not  read  a  word  from  it  for  a  month,  but  then 
runaway  boys  always  carried  their  mother's  Bibles, 
or  Testaments,  he   was   not  sure   which — and  they 
beat  everything  for  turning  off  murderous  bullets 
or  the  daggers  of  assassins.     Then   he  remembered 
how  his  mother  had  looked  at  him  and  kissed  him 
when  she  gave  him  that  Bible,  and  he  wished   that 
she    had    always    looked    so,    and    he    nearly  cried 
without  knowing    why,   and  he   longed   to   go  find 
his  mother   and  give  her  a  great  hug  and  kiss,  but 
it  would  be  just  like  her  to  ask  awkward  questions 
if  he  did.     He  would  have  a   last  look   at  her,  any 
how,  come  what  might,  so  he  tiptoed  to  the  sitting- 
room,    and   there   she   sat    darning    one    of  Jack's 
stockings,  with  a  lot  of  others  before   her,  and   she 
was  looking  very  tired  and  seemed  to  have    been 
crying. 

"  She  won't  have  to  darn  stockings  any  more," 
said  Jack  to  himself,  "and  that'll  be  a  comfort." 
Then  he  slipped  out  of  the  back  door,  through  the 


1 86 


THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 


garden,  behind  the  blackberry  rows,  into  the 
meadow,  and  so  down  to  a  wild  little  gully  which 
would  lead  him  out  of  town  unseen  by  any  one. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

RUNNING    AWAY. 

JACK'S  first  care  was  to  get  out  of  town  ;  once 
out  of  sight  of  any  house,  however,  he  began 
to  wonder  seriously  what  course  he  should  take. 
The  terrible  thirst  with  which  he  was  consuming 
suggested  that  he  should  keep  close  to  the  river, 
the  water  of  which,  now  that  October  had  come, 
was  quite  cool.  There  was  a  scarcity  of  houses 
along  the  river  bank,  and  Jack  had  entirely  for 
gotten  to  bring  any  food  with  him ;  still,  if  he  de 
veloped  no  more  appetite  than  he  had  at  present, 
he  would  want  nothing  to  eat  for  days.  Besides, 
the  river  bank  was  well  wooded  for  miles,  and 
though  the  trees  had  begun  to  shed  their  leaves, 
there  was  still  foliage  enough  to  secrete  a  boy  from 
anyone  who  might  be  impertinently  curious.  Still 
better,  the  dry  leaves  would  make  a  delightful 
couch,  and  Jack  began  to  think  that  the  sooner  he 
tried  them  the  more  comfortable  he  would  be,  for 

187 


1 88  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

his  head  persisted  in  aching,  and  his  legs  were  very 
weak.  So  within  two  miles  of  town,  he  halted, 
scraped  a  great  many  leaves  against  a  fallen  tree,  as 
he  had  heard  was  the  habit  of  hunters  and  trappers, 
and  stretched  himself  upon  them.  The  air  was 
balmy,  the  shade  was  most  grateful,  so  Jack  soon 
dropped  into  a  slumber. 

When  he  awoke,  it  was  quite  dark,  and  he  found 
himself  unaccountably  chilly.  Fortunately  he  had 
brought  matches,  so  he  managed  to  make  a  fire  of 
leaves  and  dead  sticks,  and  the  blaze  was  very 
cheering.  But,  somehow,  he  could  find  no  side  of 
that  fire  at  which  he  could  stand  without  having 
the  wind  blow  smoke  into  his  eyes,  and  his  brandy- 
swollen  optics  were  not  in  a  condition  to  endure 
smoke  with  equanimity,  even  for  the  sake  of  belong 
ing  to  a  runaway  who  was  going  to  enable  them  to 
see  all  the  wonders  of  distant  lands.  Finally,  Jack 
scraped  the  fire  toward  his  bed,  and  by  lying  on 
the  latter  he  avoided  the  smoke  and  obtained  his 
first  tuition  in  positive  woodcraft.  Piling  on  addi 
tional  wood,  he  soon  had  a  very  bright  fire,  in  front 
of  which  he  again  dropped  asleep,  but  the  fire 
crawled  from  leaf  to  leaf  until  it  reached  his  bed, 
and  he  awoke  to  find  himself  half  smothered,  and 


JACK    IN    CAMP. 


RUNNING    AWAY.  189 

his  clothing  charred  in  several  places.  His  tours 
for  fuel  began  to  extend  farther  than  the  light  of 
his  fire,  so  that  he  had  to  feel  about  very  carefully 
for  wood,  and  the  rustle  in  which  the  dead  boughs 
indulged  as  he  dragged  them  from  beneath  the 
leaves  suggested  snakes,  of  which  Jack  stood  in 
deadly  terror.  The  obduracy  of  several  small  dead 
trees  provoked  him  beyond  the  limits  of  his  small 
store  of  patience,  the  smokiness  of  old  and  rotten 
boughs  did  not  tend  to  peace  of  body  and  mind,  so 
Jack  began  to  swear  and  then  to  cry.  Both  of  these 
exercises  made  him  feel  better  in  some  way,  how 
ever,  and  he  at  last  succeeded  in  making  a  very 
large  fire. 

But  he  realized,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  that 
the  blood  of  a  man  recovering  from  intoxication, 
acts  as  if  it  had  been  passed  through  a  refrigerator. 
He  revolved  before  that  fire  as  if  he  had  been  upon 
a  turnspit,  but  cold  chills  would  creep  down  his 
back  while  his  front  was  roasting.  He  wished  that 
somebody  had  accompanied  him,  so  that  he  would 
not  be  so  dreadfully  lonesome,  and  the  remarks  of 
a  distant  owl,  who  exclaimed  "  Hoo — hoo — hoo — 
hoo — are  you  ?  "  in  endless  iteration,  did  not  at  all 
satisfy  his  longing  for  human  society.  There  was 


THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

at  least  one  comfort  to  be  anticipated, — the  morn 
ing  could  not  be  far  distant. 

As  Nature  slowly  cleared  his  head,  Jack  began  to 
weave  plans  for  the  future.  Whether  to  go  east  or 
west,  he  could  not  for  a  long  time  decide.  The 
two  countries  were  about  equi-distant,  and  each  had 
its  advantages,  but  the  tendency  of  story  papers  for 
boys  preponderated  strongly  in  favor  of  the  latter ; 
besides,  the  names  of  certain  western  localities 
were  particularly  enticing,  so  he  decided  to  go 
west.  He  wished  he  had  a  revolver,  but  if  he  could 
beg  or  work  his  way  west  on  the  trains,  as  runaway 
boys  always  did  in  stories,  he  might  have  money 
enough  left  to  buy  a  second-hand  pistol.  Besides, 
he  could  sell  his  personal  effects — all  but  his  fish 
ing-tackle  and  his  Bible  and  nice  little  Mattie  Bark 
er's  bouquet ;  as  for  the  Bible,  he  must  have  a 
breast  pocket  made  for  that  at  once.  If  the  morn 
ing  would  only  come  ! 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  familiar  bell ;  ha ! — a  fire 
had  broken  out  in  Doveton,  and  he  was  not  there  to 
see  it.  Well,  he  deserved  some  punishment  for  his 
wrong-doings,  and  he  felt  that  this  would  be  a  suf- 
>  ficient  one,  for  a  fire  was  a  rarity  at  Doveton,  and 
he  was  therefore  losing  a  great  deal.  The  peal  ran 


RUNNING    AWAY.  IQI 

on,  but  stopped  at  the  ninth  stroke.  What  ?  Could 
it  be  but  nine  o'clock?  The  night  seemed  to  grow 
darker  and  colder  all  in  an  instant,  as  Jack  realized 
that  he  must  have  fallen  asleep  about  noon  and  was 
to  be  alone  in  the  woods  all  night. 

Then  the  wind  awoke,  and  made  the  most  dismal 
of  noises  in  the  trees  overhead,  and  it  blew  harder 
and  harder,  and  once  in  a  while  it  disturbed  a  bird 
who  protested  shrilly  and  with  a  suddenness  that  sent 
Jack's  heart  into  his  mouth.  The  wind  stirred  the 
leaves,  and  Jack  recalled,  with  violent  agitation,  the 
fact  that  a  panther  had  been  seen  in  those  very 
woods  a  few  years  before.  He  had  heard  that  such 
animals  were  attracted  by  bright  lights,  so  the  re 
flection  of  fire  on  dewy  leaves  a  little  way  off  took, 
to  Jack's  eyes,  the  shape  of  the  glaring  eyes  of  a 
wild  animal.  He  hastily  separated  the  sticks  on  his 
fire,  and  beat  down  the  coals,  looking  behind  him 
several  times  a  minute  as  he  did  so,  for  fear  the  ani 
mal  might  spring  suddenly  upon  him.  Would  a 
mother's  Bible  arrest  the  jaws  of  a  panther,  he  won 
dered,  and  if  so,  to  what  part  of  his  person  would  it 
be  advisable  to  tie  the  Holy  Book? 

Then  the  velocity  of  the  wind  increased,  and, 
soon  a  drop  of  water  struck  Jack  in  the  face.  It 


192  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

must  have  been  dew,  shaken  from  the  trees  over 
head  ?  But  no  ;  another  drop  came,  and  then  an_. 
other,  and  then  several  at  a  time,  and  then  too  many 
to  count.  It  was  raining!  Jack  began  to  cry  in 
good  earnest,  but  something  must  be  done,  so  he 
began  to  strip  bark  from  the  dead  tree  against 
which  he  had  lain.  It  came  off  in  very  small  pieces 
at  first,  but  by  careful  handling,  Jack  managed  to 
get  several  strips  long  enough  to  reach  from  the 
ground  to  the  log  as  he  lay  under  them.  But  even 
then  things  did  not  work  as  they  should.  Between 
each  two  pieces  there  was  an  aperture,  so  in  a  few 
moments  the  rain  had  marked  out  at  least  four  ver 
tical  sections  of  Jack's  clothing  and  made  itself  felt 
on  his  skin.  A  slight  drawing  up  of  the  knees  dis 
placed  one  piece  of  bark,  and.  the  cautious  twisting 
necessitated  by  the  replacing  of  this  piece,  dis 
arranged  two  others. 

And  this  was  the  sort  of  thing  which  he  would 
probably  have  to  endure  all  night !  Jack  cried  and 
shivered,  and  shivered  and  cried,  until  his  coat 
sleeve  was  wet  with  tears,  and  his  remaining  gar 
ments  were  soaked  with  the  rain  which  the  con 
tinual  displacement  of  the  bark  admitted.  He 
thought  of  other  lone  wanderers — Robinson  Crusoe, 


RUNNING    AWAY.  IQ3 

Reuben  Davidger,  the  Prodigal  Son,  but  all  of  these 
had  lucky  things  happen  to  them.  Even  the  last- 
named  personage  had  something  to  eat,  such  as  it 
was,  while  Jack  now  felt  as  he  imagined  Esau  did 
when  he  traded  off  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pot 
tage.  He  would  certainly  starve  before  daylight, 
in  spite  of  the  money  he  had  to  buy  food  with. 

Meanwhile  his  parents  were  as  miserable  as  him 
self.  The  doctor  spent  the  morning,  between  pro 
fessional  visits,  in  devising  some  new  and  effective 
punishment  for  the  boy.  But  when  he  found  Jack's 
room  empty,  and  was  unable  to  learn  that  the  boy 
had  been  home  at  all,  he  forgot  all  about  punish 
ment,  and  started  on  horseback  in  search,  with  the 
fear  that  Jack's  unsteady  legs  and  light  head  had 
got  him  into  trouble.  He  searched  fence  corners, 
wood-piles  and  barn-yards  between  his  house  and  the 
place  from  which  Jack  had  started,  and  he  question 
ed,  without  success,  everyone  he  met.  Returning 
in  real  agitation  through  a  fear  that  the  boy  might 
have  fallen  into  a  well  in  search  of  the  water  for 
which  he  must  be  constantly  longing,  the  doctor  re 
tired  to  his  own  room  for  special  prayer  and  suppli 
cation,  when  he  found  Jack's  letter.  With  this  he 
hurried  to  his  wife,  and  so  frightened  the  lady  that 


194  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

the  doctor  attempted  at  first  to  make  light  of  the 
whole  matter,  but  his  fears  and  his  apprehensions 
were  too  much  for  him,  so  he  sank  listlessly  into  a 
chair  and  covered  his  eyes,  while  Mrs.  Wittingham 
cried,  and  wrung  her  hands,  and  asked  what  was  to 
be  done. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  know  what 
should  have  been  done  long  ago — I  always  do,  after 
trouble  has  come,  and  it's  too  late  to  remedy  it.  We 
should  have  made  ourselves  more  companionable  to 
Jack,  but  instead  of  that,  we've  only  tried  to  make 
him  a  person  like  ourselves.  We're  so  bound  up  in 
our  own  round  of  daily  affairs  that  we've  never  paid 
much  attention  to  him  except  when  he  has  got  him 
self  into  mischief." 

"  I'm  sure  I've  always  seen  that  he  had  food  and 
clothing,  and  you  have  sent  him  to  school,  and  given 
him  everything  he's  asked  for  that  was  within 
reason." 

"  Within  our  reason,  yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but 
I  remember  to  have  had  tastes  different  from  my 
parents,  when  I  was  a  boy,  and  they  were  not  at  all 
bad,  either." 

"  I've  prayed  for  him,  heaven  knows  how  ear 
nestly,"  said  Mrs.  Wittingham. 


RUNNING    AWAY.  IQ5 

"  So  have  I,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but  I  don't  cure 
my  patients  by  prayer.  And  my  own  boy,  my  only 
son,  who  has  more  good  qualities  than  all  my  pa 
tients  put  together,  I've  never  paid  special  attention 
to,  except  when  his  ways  were  irregular.  And  I  am 
the  man  whose  address — '  An  Ounce  of  Preven 
tion  is  worth  a  Pound  of  Cure,' — made  me  such  a 
name  when  I  read  it  before  the  State  Medical  Asso 
ciation  !  Oh,  consistency  !  " 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do,  doctor?"  asked 
Mrs.  Wittingham.  "  There's  no  knowing  where  he 
may  be,  or  what  he  will  do — perhaps  we'll  hear  of 
him  in  some  penitentiary." 

"  Or  in  Congress,"  said  the  doctor.  "  He'll  be  a 
smart  enough  rascal  to  get  there,  with  that  busy 
brain  and  smart  tongue  of  his." 

"  But  you  must  do  something,  doctor,"  pleaded 
Mrs.  Wittingham. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do  first,"  said  the  doctor 
springing  from  his  chair  ;  "  I'll  go  and  burn  up  that 
infernal  book  on  heredity  ;  a  man  who  can't  under 
stand  his  own  flesh  and  blood,  isn't  fit  to  write 
about  those  of  the  rest  of  the  race.  Then  I'll  hire 
both  constables  to  track  him,  first  swearing  them 
to  secrecy.  I  guess  I  won't  burn  the  book,  though 


196  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

— I'll  learn  enough  by  this  experience  to  tell  the 
truth  instead  of  running  a  lot  of  theories  on  the 
public." 

The  constables  were  on  the  road  in  an  hour,  and 
the  doctor,  pleading  a  sudden  call  out  of  town, 
turned  over  his  patients  to  the  least  disagreeable 
of  his  rivals,  and  took  the  road  himself.  But  no 
one  seemed  to  have  seen  Jack.  Matt  knew  nothing 
about  him,  and  the  doctor  reached'  home  at  mid 
night  looking  as  many  years  older  as  he  certainly 
was,  wiser  and  sadder. 

All  night  long  Jack's  parents  lay  awake  in  each 
other's  arms,  crying,  praying,  reproaching  them 
selves  and  excusing  each  other,  and  forming  self- 
denying  resolutions  for  the  future  in  which  they 
hoped  to  have  their  boy  again.  With  each  gust 
of  wind,  Mrs.  Wittingham  shuddered  and  suggested 
dreadful  possibilities,  and  the  doctor  comforted  his 
wife  while  he  kept  to  himself  suggestions  equally 
dreadful.  The  rain  sat  the  doctor  to  fearing  dan 
gerous  sickness  to  the  boy  who  was  in  such  unfit 
condition  to  breast  a  storm.  When  he  was  a 
scrapegrace  boy  himself,  and  away  from  home,  he 
had  always  sense  enough  to  go  into  a  barn  when  it 
rained,  but  he  never  thought  to  attribute  this 


RUNNING    AWAY.  I9/ 

much  of  wisdom  to  Jack,  for  his  thoughts  kept  re 
curring  to  the  boy's  earlier  days,  when  Jack  was  a 
sturdy,  merry,  helpless  baby,  and  his  parents  had 
planned  such  a  delightful  future  for  the  jolly  little 
rogue. 

A  swing  of  the  gate  leading  to  the  barn-yard 
brought  the  doctor  to  his  feet,  and  hurried  him  out 
into  the  storm  with  bare  head  and  feet,  but  alas, 
it  was  only  the  wind.  A  muffled  step  on  the  back 
piazza,  called  him  again  from  his  bed,  but  he  found 
only  the  family  cat.  He  grew  too  weak  to  try  to 
silence  his  wife's  fears,  too  weak  too  think,  too 
weak  to  examine  his  own  apprehensions,  too  weak 
to  do  anything  but  pray  and  promise.  At  early 
dawn  he  dressed  himself  and  hurried  out  to  feed  his 
horse,  so  that  the  animal  might  be  ready  for  an 
early  start.  He  gave  the  pony  an  extra  measure  of 
corn,  and  climbed  into  the  hay-loft  to  push  down 
some  hay.  An  old  hat  of  Jack's  lay  upon  the  hay 
a  little  way  off,  and  the  doctor  snatched  it  and 
kissed  it  passionately,  his  eyes  filling  with  tears  as 
he  did  so.  Then,  as  he  wiped  his  eyes,  he  saw 
something  else  that  reminded  him  of  his  boy, 
though  he  scarcely  knew  why.  He  stopped  to 
pick  it  up,  and  a  loud  yell  resulted,  for  the  dingy 


198  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

object  was  Jack's  hair,  the  owner  of  which  had 
burrowed  the  remainder  of  himself  deep  in  the 
warm  hay.  Tears,  fears,  prayers,  good  resolutions 
and  all  other  products  of  night  and  penitence  es 
caped  the  doctor  as  if  they  were  dreams,  and  he 
exclaimed  : 

"Well,  sir?" 

"  Oh,  father  !  "  said  Jack. 

"  Is  this  as  far  as  you've  been  ?  "  demanded  the 
parent,  indignant  about  what  seemed  to  him  sym 
pathy  obtained  under  false  pretences. 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Jack,  "  I've  had  an  awful  time. 
You  may  punish  me  all  you  want  to,  but  you  can 
never  make  me  suffer  as  I've  done  to-night."  And 
Jack  cried  as  if  his  heart  would  break. 

"  Your  poor  mother,"  said  the  doctor,  "  has  been 
nearly  crazy." 

"  Let  me  see  her  !  "  said  Jack.  "  Just  let  me  see 
her  once  more."  And  in  a  moment  Jack  had 
jumped  from  the  hay-loft  window  and  was  limping 
toward  the  house. 

The  doctor,  recalling  with  some  shame  his  good 
resolutions,  followed  with  all  possible  haste,  though 
by  the  conventional  means  of  exit,  and  when  he 
entered  the  house,  he  beheld  the  runaway  hugging 
and  kissing-  his  mother  in  most  frantic  fashion. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

LOSING    A    REPUTATION. 

JACK  was  so  overjoyed  at  getting  home  again 
that  his  plain  little  room  seemed  a  palatial 
residence  when  he  entered  it.  As  long  sections  of 
bare  skin  were  visible  through  his  dried  but  burned 
clothing,  and  as  the  latter  was  also  well  sprinkled 
with  hay-seed,  he  made  haste  to  change  his  apparel. 
He  really  hoped  his  father  would  whip  him,  he  had 
been  so  bad,  and  lest  the  punishment  should  not  be 
as  heavy  as  he  deserved  he  put  on  very  thin  cloth 
ing,  and  neglected  to  put  anything  between  jacket 
and  skin  to  temper  the  blows.  If  his  father  did  not 
punish  him,  he  would  punish  himself  ;  he  would  go 
without  pie  and  cake  for  a  year,  or  he  would  com 
mit  to  memory  a  chapter  of  the  Bible  every  day. 
Of  course  nobody  in  the  village  would  speak  to  him 
now,  but  he  didn't  care,  if  only  he  could  remain  at 
home,  never  to  go  away,  not  even  when  he  became 
a  man. 

199 


2OO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

Suddenly,  as  he  emptied  the  remaining  pockets 
of  his  burned  clothes,  he  found  the  letter  which  he 
had  intended  to  mail  to  his  sweetheart  from  some 
convenient  post-office.  At  sight  of  this  his  heart 
gave  a  mighty  bound,  and  he  retracted  his  resolu 
tion  to  remain  at  home  all  his  life,  unless,  indeed, 
his  mother  might  be  brought  to  fully  approve  the 
choice  of  his  heart.  He  would  lose  no  time  in  con 
sulting  both  his  parents  about  this  affair  of  the 
affections,  and  he  counted  it  as  a  sin  that  he  had 
not  done  so  long  before.  What  very  different 
people  from  what  he  had  supposed  them  to  be, 
that  night  had  taught  him  his  father  and  mother 
were  ! 

The  expected  punishment  not  manifesting  itself, 
Jack  ventured  out  of  his  room  and  stood  upon  the 
back  piazza,  to  look  at  the  garden,  which  suddenly 
appeared  to  him  to  be  the  finest  garden  that  the 
world  ever  knew — the  garden  of  Eden  excepted, 
perhaps. 

From  here  he  listened  to  the  breakfast  bell,  and 
wondered  if  any  bread  and  water  would  be  sent  to 
him  ;  if  not,  he  would  at  least  have  the  consolation 
of  knowing  that  he  didn't  deserve  any.  But  sud 
denly  his  father  shouted  that  his  breakfast  would 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION.  2OI 

be  cold  if  he  didn't  eat  it  soon,  so  Jack  descended, 
in  a  maze,  to  the  nicest  breakfast  he  had  ever 
seen,  and  oh !  wonder  of  wonders,  his  father  gave 
him  a  cup  of  coffee,  a  luxury  which  he  had  been 
taught  to  forego,  because  the  doctor  thought  it 
very  injurious  to  growing  boys  with  large  heads. 
Jack  occasionally  stole  a  loving  look  at  both  par 
ents,  but  it  pained  him  greatly  to  discover  for  the 
first  time,  that  his  father  looked  as  if  he  was  going 
to  be  an  old  man,  and  he  was  confused  by  seeing 
his  mother's  eyes  fill  with  tears  at  short  inter 
vals. 

When  breakfast  was  over,  the  doctor  went  into 
his  office  without  saying  a  word  to  Jack,  and  Mrs. 
Wittingham,  first  kissing  her  boy,  went  to  her 
household  affairs,  and  Jack  felt  very  uncomfortable. 
He  was  too  full  to  be  silent,  but  it  was  not  the  sort 
of  fullness,  so  often  experienced,  that  could  be  re 
lieved  by  whistling,  or  singing,  or  dancing,  or  teas 
ing  the  family  cat.  He  was  absolutely  longing  to 
pay  the  penalty  of  his  misdeeds,  and  he  was  deter 
mined  not  to  be  the  cause  of  any  delay,  so  he  fol 
lowed  his  father  into  the  office — a  thing  he  had 
never  done  before  in  his  life  in  the  face  of  impend 
ing  conflict.  The  doctor  was  surprised  beyond 


2O2  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

measure  by  this  unexpected  demonstration,  and  his 
astonishment  increased  as  Jack,  after  lounging 
about  uncomfortably  for  a  few  moments,  suddenly 
exclaimed : 

"  Father,  I  want  to  be  punished." 

"  Bless  me !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  turning  so 
suddenly  that  a  powder  which  he  was  preparing 
dusted  all  over  his  clothing.  "  Have  you  lost  your 
senses,  my  boy?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Jack,  hanging  his  head.  "  I  guess 
I've  just  found  them.  I've  been  a  dreadfully  bad 
boy,  and  I  think  I  deserve  to  be  punished  severely." 

"  Well,"  said  the  doctor,  after  several  moments  of 
silent  contemplation  of  his  boy,  "  that's  the 
strangest  case  I  ever  heard  of." 

The  doctor  dropped  the  paper  which  had  held 
the  powder,  hurried  to  the  desk,  took  out  the  notes 
for  his  work  on  heredity,  and  made  the  following 
memorandum  :  "  It  is  undeniable  that  the  mental, 
like  the  physical  nature,  sometimes  generates  a 
quality  utterly  different  from  itself."  Then  the 
doctor  erased  this,  and  re-wrote  and  amplified  it. 
The  second  form  did  not  satisfy  him  entirely,  so 
again  he  erased  and  wrote,  and  repeated  the  process 
several  times.  As  he  was  m.aking  his  sixth  erasure 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION.  2OJ 

he  became  conscious  that  Jack  had  lounged  up  to 
his  elbow. 

"  Oh  !  "  said  the  doctor,  "  you  said  you  wanted  to 
be  punished,  didn't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

The  doctor  wanted  to  say  "  Confound  it !  "  but 
he  habitually  refrained  from  such  remarks  before  his 
boy  ;  as  he  looked  back  to  his  doubly  scrawled  page, 
however,  he  unconsciously  penned  "  Confound  it !  " 
directly  after  his  late  erasure,  and  he  followed  it 
with  exclamation  points  to  the  end  of  the  line. 

"  What  do  you  think  should  be  done  to  you  ?  " 
asked  the  doctor,  finally. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Jack,  "  but  it  ought  to  be 
something  dreadful,  for  I've  been  so  bad." 

"  Why  did  you  get  drunk?" 

"  I  didn't  mean  to  do  it,"  said  Jack,  "  but  that's 
just  the  way  with  everything  I  do,"  and  Jack  ex 
plained  the  affair  with  the  brandy-bottle. 

"  You  did  something  worse  than  get  drunk  when 
you  took  that  brandy,  my  boy,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Jack;  "  I  always  do  some- 
thing  worse.  But  I  don't  know  what  it  was." 

"  You  showed  yourself  to  be  a  coward,"  replied 
the  doctor.  "  What  do  you  think  of  cowards?" 


2O4  THE    WORST  BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  They'd  have  called  me  a  coward  if  I  hadn't 
drunk  it,"  said  Jack. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  that's  what  you 
were  cowardly  about,  can't  you  see?" 

Jack  admitted  that  he  could. 

"  Wouldn't  it  have  taken  more  bravery  to  have 
laughed  and  fought  down  such  a  charge,  than  it  re 
quired  to  drink  the  liquor  ?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"Yes,  sir.  And  I  want  to  be  punished  for  being 
a  coward  too.  " 

"  Goodness  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  seizing  his 
hat  and  vanishing.  A  few  minutes  later  the  Rev 
erend  Mr.  Daybright,  just  as  he  had  entered  his 
study,  received  a  call  from  D'r.  Wittingham,  and  the 
doctor  promptly  proceeded  to  detail  Jack's  case  and 
ask  for  advice.  Now  Mr.  Daybright  belonged  to  a 
denomination  which  has  very  pronounced  ideas  on 
the  subject  of  sin  and  punishment,  and  the  minister 
preached  as  his  church  believed,  and  was  sure  that 
he  believed  what  he  preached,  yet  he  counselled  the 
doctor  to  let  the  boy  alone. 

"  But  he  wants  to  be  punished,"  urged  the  doctor. 

"  What  good  can  it  do  him  ?  "  asked  the  minister ; 
"  if  he  is  in  that  frame  of  mind,  the  sole  object  of 
punishment  is  attained  in  advance." 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION. 

"  But  he  has  done  wrong;  he  has  kept  his  mother 
and  me  in  intolerable  misery  for  twenty-four  hours, 
and  it  seems  to  me  that  something  should  be  done 
to  him." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  minister,  "  you're  thinking  about 
revenge,  which  is  very  different  from  punishment. 
And  it  is  my  duty,  as  your  pastor,  to  urge  you  to 
give  up  the  thought  at  once,  for  it  is  unchristian 
and  brutal." 

"  Why,"  said  the  doctor,  flushing  angrily,  "  I  don't 
want  to  punish  him ;  I  simply  think  it  a  matter  of 
duty." 

"  Yes,"  sighed  the  minister,  "  revenge  has  gener 
ally  been  considered  a  duty,  so  great  is  the  influ 
ence  of  inheritance  even  upon  minds  intentionally 
honest." 

The  doctor  abruptly  departed,  muttering  to  him 
self : 

"  That's  a  point  for  the  book,  any  how !  " 

Arrived  at  his  office,  the  doctor  found  Jack  still 
there.  He  picked  the  boy  up  in  his  arms,  and  as 
Jack  mentally  submitted  to  whatever  was  to  be  his 
fate,  his  father  sat  down,  hugged  the  boy  close, 
and  said : 

"  My  darling  fellow,  tell  me  what  I  can  do  to  keep 


2O6  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

you  out  of  further  mischief  and  trouble.  That 
shall  be  your  punishment." 

The  exquisite  sarcasm  of  the  potter  questioning 
his  clay  did  not  strike  Jack,  which  is  not  very 
strange,  as  the  doctor  himself  was  unconscious  of 
it.  But  Jack  could  only  say : 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  I  would  sell  everything  I  own,  if  money  would 
do  it,"  said  the  doctor. 

Jack  was  still  unable  to  answer,  but  the  doctor's 
assertion  caused  the  boy  to  squeeze  closer  to  his  fa 
ther's  breast,  which  movement  greatly  comforted 
the  old  gentleman. 

"  I  think  if  you'd  always  let  me  be  with  you, 
father,  I  would  be  a  real  good  boy,"  said  Jack.  "  I 
like  you  better  than  I  do  anybody — but  Matt ;  yes, 
better  than  Matt  either." 

"Thank  you,  my  boy,"  said  the  doctor,  with 
some  little  coolness  which  Jack  detected. 

"  I've  got  to  do  something,"  said  Jack,  "and  if  I 
can't  see  things  that's  good  to  do,  I  have  to  do 
others." 

The  doctor  remembered  having  had  some  such 
experience  himself,  in  the  days  of  his  own  mischief- 
making,  but  he  answered  gravely  : 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION.  2O/ 

"  I  have  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  in  sick 
rooms,  my  boy,  where  it  would  be  inconvenient  for 
you  to  be." 

"  Then  let  me  be  with  you  when  you're  at  home," 
said  Jack,  "  and,"  he  continued,  rather  hesitatingly, 
"  let  me  ask  questions,  and  you  try  to  answer  so 
I  can  understand  you." 

The  doctor  dimly  realized  that  when  he  was  busy 
he  did  not  answer  questions  willingly  or  lucidly,  but 
he  replied : 

"You  ask  a  great  many  questions  about  things 
which  I  don't  think  you  should  know  about,  Jack." 

"  Well,"  said  Jack,  "  I  can't  help  thinking  about 
them,  and  when  you  turn  me  off,  I  nearly  always 
ask  somebody  else  and  I  find  out  anyhow." 

The  idea  that  other  people  should  be  telling  his 
boy  about  matters  which  he  declined  informing  him 
upon  was  a  blow  to  the  doctor's  self-respect,  and  his 
sense  of  propriety,  too,  for  he  knew  what  class  of 
people  Jack  would  be  likely  to  apply  to  for  informa 
tion,  and  the  nature  of  the  answers  which  would  be 
given.  The  doctor  pondered  a  little  while,  and  then 
said  : 

"  Jack,  how  would  you  like  to  learn  a  trade  ?  You 
could  be  with  me  in  the  evenings,  you  know." 


2O8  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"What  sort  of  a  trade?"  said  Jack. 

"  Whatever  you  like,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I 
wouldn't  for  anything  have  you  at  any  that  was  dis 
tasteful  to  you.  You  certainly  like  to  use  tools — 
you  have  ruined  all  of  mine  in  various  ways." 

"  I  think  I'd  like  to  be  a  carpenter,"  said  Jack. 

"  Then  you  shall,"  said  the  doctor.  "  If  you  like 
it,  and  stick  to  it,  I'll  set  you  up  as  a  builder  when 
you  learn  it,  but  the  moment  you  grow  sick  of  it  I 
want  you  to  let  me  know.  You  are  smart  enough 
to  become  a  good  architect,  and  that's  a  more  prof 
itable  profession  than  mine." 

"  May  I  have  tools  of  my  own  ?"  asked  Jack. 

"  Yes,"  replied  his  father,  "  the  best  that  money 
can  buy.  And  I  will  go  right  away  and  find  some 
one  who  will  teach  you." 

The  doctor  went  straightway  to  the  best  builder 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  had  the  proposition  civilly 
but  promptly  declined. 

"  Every  boy  I  ever  took  managed  to  ruin  all  my 
best  tools  within  a  year,"  explained  the  builder,  "to 
say  nothing  of  the  lumber  which  he  worked  up  into 
fancies  of  his  own,  and  ruined  by  failures  of  one 
sort  and  another." 

"  I'll  buy  my  boy  the  best  and  largest  set  of  tools 
that  you  can  select,"  said  the  doctor. 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION. 

For  a  moment  this  offer  seemed  an  inducement 
to  the  builder,  for  there  were  many  tools  which  he 
disliked  to  buy  yet  needed  occasionally  to  use  ;  he 
might  borrow  from  the  promised  outfit.  But  as  he 
thought  further,  he  replied  : 

"  You're  very  fair,  but  tools  aren't  everything,  if 
I  do  the  square  thing  by  the  boy,  I  must  use  a  great 
deal  of  time  in  teaching  him,  and  time  is  money. 
My  time  is  worth  a  great  deal  more  than -the  boy's 
work  will  be  for  a  couple  of  years." 

"  I'll  pay  you  cash  for  your  time,"  said  the  doc 
tor  ;  "  I'll  give  you  a  thousand  dollars  in  advance,  if 
you  say  so." 

This  offer  staggered  the  builder,  prosperous 
though  he  was,  for  where  is  the  man  who  does  not 
want  a  thousand  dollars? 

But  still  the  builder  hesitated,  and  the  doctor 
asked  : 

"  What  else  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  builder,  prudently  retiring  to 
the  doorway  of  a  house  he  was  building,  "  what  I 
want  is  to  tell  you  something  that  maybe  you  won't 
like,  but  I  can't  help  taking  it  into  consideration. 
They  do  say — /  don't  say  it,  mind,  but  I've  heard 
it  from  a  good  many — that  Jack  is  the  worst  boy  in 
town." 


2IO  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

"  It's  a  lie  !  "  roared  the  doctor.  "  He's  the  best 
— that  is,  he  has  the  best  stuff  in  him.  He's  never 
quiet ;  he  learns  his  lessons  as  quickly  as  a  flash  ;  he 
hates  work  about  the  house,  just  as  I'll  warrant  you 
did  when  you  were  a  boy,  and  he  must  do  some 
thing.  He  likes  to  handle  tools,  though,  and  wants 
to  be  a  carpenter." 

"  Liking  is  all  very  well,"  said  the  builder,  "  but 
sticking  to  work  don't  naturally  follow." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  his  dropping  a  job  of  mis 
chief  until  he  had  thoroughly  finished  it  ?"  asked 
the  doctor. 

"  No,"  answered  the  builder  with  great  prompt 
ness. 

The  final  result  was  that  sundry  papers  and 
moneys  passed  between  the  doctor  and  the  builder, 
and  on  the  following  Monday  morning,  Jack  was  at 
work  at  seven  o'clock  nailing  planking  upon  a  barn. 
The  news  got  about  town  very  rapidly,  and  by  noon 
there  were  at  least  twenty  boys  looking  at  the  un 
expected  spectacle,  and  tormenting  Jack  with  iron 
ical  questions.  When  night  came  Jack's  hand  felt 
as  if  it  could  never  grasp  a  hammer  again,  and  he 
was  otherwise  so  weary  that  he  declined,  without 
thanks,  an  invitation  to  go  with  the  other  boys  to 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION.  211 

serenade  a  newly-married  couple  with  horns  and 
bells.  Then  he  helped  shingle  a  portion  of  the  roof 
of  the  new  barn,  but  his  mind  was  greatly  distract 
ed  by  the  awkwardness  of  a  boy,  in  an  adjoining 
pasture,  who  was  trying  to  braid  together  the  tips 
of  the  tails  of  two  calves  ;  the  consequence  was 
that  he  had  progressed  so  short  a  distance  with  his 
own  row  of  shingles  that  the  other  workmen  had 
gone  across  the  barn  and  returned  to  start  afresh, 
and,  as  they  rested  until  Jack  got  out  of  the  way, 
they  ungratefully  upbraided  him  because  of  his 
slowness,  and  he  wasn't  going  to  be  called  slow 
again,  not  for  all  the  calves'  tails  in  the  universe. 

This  book  might  have  been  continued  indefi 
nitely,  had  it  not  been  that  Jack  was  steadily  at 
work  which  he  liked,  and  had  a  great  deal  of  his 
father's  society  out  of  working  hours.  Gaining 
these,  he  lost  his  reputation  for  being  the  worst 
boy  in  town,  for  although  he  remained  for  several 
years  a  boy  and  a  very  lively  one,  he  had  some 
thing  besides  mischief  to  exercise  his  busy  brain 
upon,  and  a  boy  cannot  be  honestly  busy  and  mis 
chievous  also,  any  riore  than  he  can  eat  his  cake 
and  have  it  too.  Even  the  doctor  and  Mrs.  Wit- 


212  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN. 

tingham  reformed,  though  it  was  very  hard  for  the 
latter  to  stop  fretting  at  the  boy,  and  for  the  for 
mer  to  cease  acting  as  if  his  son,  like  his  horse, 
merely  needed  food,  rest  and  correction. 

Jack  did  not  go  about  preaching  reform  to  the 
boys  and  advising  them  all  to  be  carpenters,  but  he 
unconsciously  talked  from  a  standpoint  very  differ 
ent  from  that  which  he  had  habitually  occupied  in 
other  days,  and  his  talk  came  gradually  to  exert 
considerable  influence  among  the  boys,  though  they 
seldom  noticed  the  change  themselves.  Jack's 
very  title,  "  The  Worst  Boy  in  Town,"  was  in  con 
siderable  danger  of  lapsing  for  lack  of  a  successor, 
and  the  inhabitants  of  Doveton  are  still  undecided 
as  to  where  it  belongs. 

As  for  the  doctor's  great  work  on  heredity,  it  is 
not  in  print  yet,  for  the  doctor  happened  one  day, 
while  mourning  over  a  neglected  and  consequently 
unproductive  Bartlett  pear  tree,  to  drift  into  some 
analogies  between  the  animal  and  vegetable  king 
doms,  with  the  result  that  he  realized  that  if  the 
splendid  hereditary  tendencies  of  the  tree  could  not 
prevent  its  bareness  and  its  running  to  superfluous 
wood,  there  could  be  no  hope  of  an  untrained  boy, 
even  if  he  was  a  scion  of  the  Wittingham  stock. 


LOSING    A    REPUTATION.  213 

This  idea  took  such  entire  possession  of  the  doc 
tor  that  he  went  into  the  house  and  burned  his 
manuscript  as  far  as  completed,  and  all  the  notes 
beside. 

According  to  Jack,  who  professes  to  be  an  infalli 
ble  authority  on  the  subject,  nice  little  Mattie 
Barker  grows  nicer  every  day,  and  she  has  prom 
ised  to  change  her  name  in  the  course  of  time,  and 
her  parents  have  endorsed  her  decision,  for  though 
Jack  is  not  yet  of  age,  steady  boys  who  are  also 
bright,  and  have  learned  a  business  which  is  not 
akin  either  to  gambling  or  theft,  are  not  numerous 
enough  to  be  despised.  And  Jack  has  a  whole 
portfolio  full  of  cottage  plans,  all  of  his  own  de 
signing,  over  which  he  and  Mattie  spend  long  and 
industrious  evenings,  and  Jack  has  taken  a  solemn 
vow  that  when  the  proper  plan  is  decided  upon,  and 
the  building  begins,  Nuderkopf  Trinkelspiel  shall 
be  the  sole  hod-carrier,  and  shall  be  paid  the  high 
est  market  rates  for  his  services. 

Being  practically  a  successful  man,  Jack  is  the 
receptacle  for  the  confidences  of  hosts  of  his  old 
playmates,  who  feel  that  their  good  qualities  are 
not  appreciated  by  a  world  which  is  quick  to  com 
plain  of  their  occasional  irregularities,  but  he  has 


214  THE    WORST    BOY    IN    TOWN 

sent  many  of  these  youths  sadly  away  by  remark 
ing  : 

"  It  doesn't  matter  how  many  good  qualities  are 
inside  of  a  fellow,  if  only  his  bad  ones  make  them 
selves  lively  on  the  surface." 

FINIS. 


DATE  DUE 


A     000  548  342     5 


